


Abnormal

by Golyadkin



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Minor Arnold Cunningham/Nabulungi Hatimbi, Panic Attacks, Platonic Soulmates, Unwanted Fame, anger management issues, connor mckinley represses his emotions, empathy's a bitch, excessive smiling, kevin price has anxiety, starts as a quick burn but becomes a slow burn, they're in college
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-04-22 16:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 129,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14313093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golyadkin/pseuds/Golyadkin
Summary: Kevin knows his life is mostly normal. He knows Arnold is a good soulmate. He knows if he works very hard he'll make valedictorian. He doesn't know how to relax. And he really doesn't know about this Connor guy.Platonic soulmate AU that turns into a slowburn partway through





	1. Kevin Price is Normal

If Kevin Price had been asked if his life were normal he would pause. Kevin would not say his life was normal, but he would not say it was abnormal. It was not necessarily a life that many people had, but it was not so uncommon as to be described as such.

Thursday had been a normal day. There had been school, there had been eating, there had been the relief of a week coming to an end. Now there was a couch and a coffee table and chicken strips with fries. There was Kevin and there was Arnold.

A burst of velvet blue light puffed out like smoke between their hands, shimmering and wafting lazily, dissipating as quickly as it was generated. Kevin watched it roll through the air from their skin, like a van Gogh painting of the night sky. His soul and Arnold’s combined. It reflected in their eyes and set their arms aglow, and though it gave off no heat, it warmed him.

“How did the date go?” he asked, drawing both of their gazes away from where their hands clasped over the couch.

“You know how it went,” Arnold said with a laugh, giddy and embarrassed all at once.

“I know, but I want to hear it from you.”

Arnold bounced a bit in his seat, a grin stealing across his face, making Kevin smile as well. “She’s really pretty,” Arnold told him, happy beyond belief. “And she’s really sweet and nice and her accent is so cute and she has this crazy awesome hair! She’s not a Mormon, but she said she’s always been curious about organized religion.”

“What’s her name again?” Kevin asked, grabbing another chicken strip with his free hand from the coffee table.

Arnold’s face fell into a look of utter concentration. “Uh…”

“You don’t know her name?”

“No, I do! I do!” Arnold cried out waving his hand. “It’s- uh- Nairobi…or something…”

“Nairobi or something,” Kevin repeated, amused. “Well Nairobi or something sounds like a great girl. Are you gonna see her again?”

“Oh, I hope so,” Arnold said, falling back into his goofy grin. “We have each others numbers and she said she’d text me. I really like this girl, Kev, she’s so perfect.”

“I know you do,” Kevin replied through a mouthful of chicken. He had made sure to tune in during Arnold’s date, paying careful attention to his emotions in part because he cared and in part because it was kind of fun. He’d been ridiculously happy throughout, occasionally shifting into nervous excitement, but always positive.

“She did this thing today while we were eating, where she laughed and got, like, all shy about it, it was so. Cute. Like she hid her mouth behind her hand and looked away and I want to make her laugh all the time, dude. And she got the foam from the hot chocolate on her lip so it looked like a moustache and she had no idea and I really think I would die for this girl, Kevin. I’ve never met anyone more perfect.”

“Maybe wait until date two,” Kevin said. He patted the back of Arnold’s hand, which was still gripping his, releasing new puffs of blue, and then untwined their fingers and stood up to remove their empty plates to the kitchen.

“We should find someone for you, Kevin!” Arnold called to him as he deposited their dishes in the kitchen. “It’s not fair for me to have someone and not you.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “I don’t need anyone, Arnold,” he told him. “I’m perfectly happy to focus on school right now.” It was true enough. And maybe he did feel a little bit of envy towards Arnold for having a life outside of the two of them, and maybe he was developing a small amount of jealousy towards this unknown girl for taking him away. But he really didn’t think those were good enough reasons to get involved with somebody.

“Napalm says her soulmate is really nice, maybe she could introduce the two of you!”

“Who?”

“Well, I don’t know his name, but if he’s Napalm’s soulmate then he’s gotta be a good person, right?”

“No, who’s Napalm?”

Arnold looked at him like he was a bit dim and smiled. “Um, the girl I went on a date with? The girl we’ve been talking about? Keep up, Kevin.”

It took a bit of effort not to laugh, but Kevin managed to suppress it. “Right, of course, the lovely Napalm.” He sat back down on the couch, dropping a box of cookies between them, which Arnold eagerly attacked. “If you’re gonna date this girl, you’re gonna have to learn her name at some point,” he pointed out as Arnold shoved an entire cookie in his mouth at once.

“I do know her name,” Arnold argued, spraying crumbs. “I just… don’t remember it.”

“Sure,” Kevin said, taking a cookie of his own and biting into it because he wasn’t an animal.

“So, do you want us to introduce you?”

“Introduce me to who?”

“To her soulmate!” Arnold exclaimed.

“No!” Kevin said, possibly louder than he meant to. “No, I’m- I don’t want to see anyone right now, I’m fine on my own. Besides, I really need to focus on school right now, that last quiz kicked my ass.”

“Whatever you say, man,” Arnold laughed, picking up another cookie. His hand paused halfway to his mouth and he frowned a bit. “You work too hard, dude, you’ve really got to learn to relax or you’re gonna fall apart.” In went the cookie and out came the crumbs. “Like you do nothing but study and work, that can’t be healthy, and you have stress dreams, like, all the time.”

“When was the last time you studied?”

“I ‘unno,” Arnold shrugged and Kevin felt the familiar warmth of fond exasperation. “I’ve got a lot of other stuff I wanna do, school’s not everything, you know. I get good grades anyways.”

“No you don’t,” Kevin laughed. “You pull straight C’s and D’s in all your classes. That’s passing, not ‘getting good grades.’ And I don’t think an extended edition Lord of the Rings marathon is really a good excuse.”

“Passing is good grades,” Arnold argued. “And Lord of the Rings marathons are an important facet of my life, thank you. I’d way rather be doing that than studying economics.”

“I didn’t even know you were taking an economics class.”

“Neither did I.”

Soulmates weren’t meant to be the same. They were meant to balance, to keep one another from falling too far to the side. The popular expression was Yin and Yang, but Kevin didn’t think it was very accurate because not every soulmate pair was opposites like he and Arnold. He knew plenty of companions who were eerily similar. There was a pair in his Tuesday classics course who were identical twins, not only behaving very similarly, but looking exactly the same, genetically identical. At his favourite movie theatre there was a pair who worked the popcorn counter that were so similar they seemed to always be arguing, constantly frustrated with how stubborn each other was. Soulmates weren’t meant to be in constant agreement, only to support one another both in life and spiritually. Arnold was a good companion. Kevin liked to think he was too.

Their nighttime ritual was pretty locked in after three years of cohabitation. They would eat dinner together on the couch and watch a movie, then they would have a moment of connection, holding hands over the couch and talking about their day, the skin on skin contact reinforcing the bond and helping them to focus on one another. Then they would do whatever they needed to do for the night, which usually meant Arnold would continue to watch tv on the couch and Kevin to leave him to it while he went to his room and studied. Then at bedtime, 10pm, Kevin would brush his teeth and say goodnight to Arnold who was just then getting started on his last-minute assignments, and then he would go to sleep. It worked for them. It made sense.

And sure, it bothered Kevin a little that Arnold was slacking off and not getting enough sleep, but after three years he had given up on nagging him to get his work done. He couldn’t change who Arnold was any more than Arnold could change who he was. If Arnold was happy then Kevin was happy, and right now, Arnold was very happy.

That night while Kevin was working hard on his essay about the cultural significance of ghosts in literature, he could feel the distant glee of Arnold as he presumably got a text from his charming and mysterious new love interest. He smiled to himself and tried to feel happy for them. In the soft amber glow of his desk lamp, he found his mind wandering away from his paper. It was only 9 o’clock, but he decided he should probably go to bed considering he had to work the next day. No schoolwork was getting done, anyways.

This was abnormal. But it was a normal abnormal, the kind that happens every now and again and that you don’t really question because it’s normal for other people. Because it isn’t significant.

He slept fitfully, as he always did, and awoke around 3 in the morning, his heart pounding and sweat dampening his bed sheets. As if on cue, Arnold opened his door and drudged across the room to Kevin’s bed where he climbed in and snuggled up close. He accepted the embrace gratefully and closed his eyes, blue light glowing softly beneath the sheets, calm conducted between them. His breathing evened and his heart rate slowed and eventually he drifted off again.

Every night he would have a bad dream and wake up with no memory of what had happened in it. Every night, Arnold would feel his fear and come across the hall to comfort him. Every night, Kevin felt bad about interrupting his soulmate’s sleep, but every night he was grateful to have someone there to calm his nerves. Every night, he would fall back into a restless sleep. This was Kevin’s normal.

“Do you remember it this time?” Arnold asked him the next morning over breakfast. He asked every time and always received the same answer.

“No,” Kevin would say, placing their oatmeal down on the counter.

“Maybe you should see a therapist.”

“I don’t need a therapist.”

What would a therapist be able to tell him anyways? How was a therapist supposed to help him with something he didn’t even remember? He knew it was just a stress dream, the result of taking a larger than recommended course load and holding down a part-time job. It was all a part of being a student.

He had recently changed jobs, anyways, moving from being a barista at an overfilled and understaffed coffee joint down the street from the university to working in a plant shop closer to their apartment. It was quieter and less stressful and he had heard being around plants could help relieve stress. He had fewer hours there, but after having a pretty bad breakdown the previous year, that was probably a good thing.

That particular day, he was opening the store. There was still a chill in the air from the recently risen sun, and the light was white and sharply angled against the city. Opening here was much easier than it had been at the coffee shop, he didn’t have to prepare any pots of coffee, didn’t have to help make any food, there weren’t any angry customers banging at the door demanding to be let in early. There was only the soft scent of flora and a few pots to lay out. They weren’t likely to get any customers for quite a while, so he was able to take his sweet time.

Slowly, people trickled through the door, never more than a few at a time, and they would look around at the plants, gently touch the leaves and the cactus spines, smell a few flowers, and then they would go. Around noon, his coworker arrived. At that point, there were only two customers, standing together near a shelf of pothos, and Kevin was diligently refilling the small vase of single roses that sat on the counter.

“Hey Price,” said Grant as he passed by to drop his stuff off on the back room.

“Hey Grant,” Kevin replied, trying to arrange the flowers so that every colour was visible at once.

Most days they would have three people working, four on weekends, but recently their other worker had fallen ill with the flu and it had been decided that they really didn’t need that many people, so no replacement was called in for him. David Grant was a decent enough guy, if a little distant, and Kevin didn’t really mind that they didn’t talk much, it meant he was able to get more work done. Grant was a history major, so he didn’t mind that Kevin would often work on his essays and readings while on the job. He understood it. He did the same. They kept out of each other’s way and they did what they needed to do. It was easy and it was peaceful, which was exactly what Kevin needed on a Friday.

When Grant returned, doing up his dark green apron uniform with the logo of the little shop (Florgettaboutit) embroidered on the front, he nodded to Kevin. “You wanna go for lunch?” he said. “I’ve got these two.”

Kevin glanced over at the two customers who were now loitering about the air plants and nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he said, already untying his own apron.

“Oh and there’s a few plants in the back that need to be repotted,” Grant told him as Kevin walked through the doorway into the secondary room where soil and extra pots and plants were kept. “Would you mind taking care of those when you get back?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Kevin said with a smile. He went though the secondary room to the door to the back room where he deposited his apron and grabbed his bag. Fridays were the one day of the week he let himself buy lunch. Any more than that and he felt like he was just throwing money around. But it was Friday and he was working and there was nowhere really comfortable in the shop to eat, so he treated himself.

He left through the back door and crossed through the alley behind the building to the exit that would lead to the street parallel. On this street there was a moderately sized coffee shop, similar to a Starbucks, but less expensive and with more of a lean on food. While he only bought one meal a week, he had a habit of buying coffee here most days, especially around exams, and he had become friendly with the staff.

He arrived in the middle of the lunch rush, which, in all honesty, wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t long before he reached the counter and was faced with his favourite barista. Or rather, the barista he knew best. “Hey Chris,” Kevin said.

“Kevin! Good to see yah,” Chris replied brightly. “What can I get for you?”

“Chicken apple club, please,” Kevin told him and Chris smiled and put in the total. “How’re things going today?”

“Same as usual,” Chris answered, passing him the card reader. “I was up pretty late last night working on a presentation, but we’re not too busy today, so I can take it easy.”

“Aren’t you in culinary school?” Kevin asked while he paid.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t get just as many pointless assignments as the rest of the world.”

Living in a university town, especially living in the middle of student housing, most of the local businesses were staffed by students. Kevin liked it. It meant he was able to talk easily with people he didn’t really know very well about things they often had in common without ever having to actually spend time with them beyond these minute interactions. Grant and Chris both went to the same school as Kevin, but he never saw them on campus, which was just how he liked it. There weren’t many people Kevin could stand to be around for very long, and sure he could pretend, he could fake a smile and play nice, but it was exhausting and he had more important things to focus on.

After a brief chat with Chris, he grabbed his sandwich from James, another familiar face, and took it outside to eat on one of the raised concrete flowerbeds that lined the street. The sun was high and the air was warm and Kevin was contented to eat in the quite hum of the light traffic. Everything was just how he liked it: perfectly planned and according to schedule. Normal.

At 12:30 he walked back across the street, through the alley, and in through the back of the shop. He had his apron on and was back in the front by 12:35. Grant was helping an elderly couple retrieve a powder blue pot from the top shelf and there was a young woman inspecting the succulents by the door in the casual way that let him know she didn’t intend to buy, just to look. Satisfied he wasn’t needed, he quickly informed Grant he was back and then retreated into the secondary room to set about repotting.

What Grant had described as a few plants turned out to be more like a couple dozen. He didn’t mind doing it that much, getting his hands dirty was no big deal, but he had to wonder why Grant couldn’t have just done it himself. He’d been there longer, sure, but he wasn’t a manager or anything.

Whatever small amount of resentment he felt dissipated within the first 15 minutes of working. Working with plants was always therapeutic, the frustration when he couldn’t get them to sit upright in their new pots notwithstanding. Sometime in the first hour he was interrupted by a customer asking for a bag of soil, which he provided with the perfect customer service smile, but aside from that he was left in the company of himself. It was the company he most preferred. He was able to think and to plan and to check in on Arnold for a bit.

Bored. Arnold was bored. He must have been in class.

While he was in the middle of potting a particularly large fern, Grant entered the room with a customer in tow. Kevin glanced up with interest. Normally it would not have been a notable occasion, but really Grant should have called him out so that there would still be someone at the front. There were rules. The customer, a young red-headed man in a well organized outfit that looked right off the Disney Channel, paused to look around the room at the empty pots and various floral arrangements and bouquet materials that were too space-consuming to be with the more casual inventory. There were houseplants as well, but significantly less than in front, and laid about haphazardly waiting for a place in the displays, and, of course, the plants Kevin had been potting all afternoon.

Grant approached the table Kevin was working at and narrowly avoided putting his hands down in the soil that dusted the surface. “Hey Price, do we have any more dethorned roses? This guy wants a whole bunch.”

Kevin looked over Grant’s shoulder at the young man who was smiling pleasantly at a sad-looking lily that had been pulled from its shelf after a child had managed to pull off all its leaves while his mother wasn’t looking. “The singles? Yeah, there should be a few more behind that counter,” he told his coworker, indicating the bouquet station opposite. “I can grab them, though, if you want to get back to the counter.”

Grant considered it for only a second before he nodded and gave a false smile. “Great, thanks pal.”

Kevin fought the urge to make a face at his back as he disappeared through the doorway. When he turned to face the customer, the customer was already looking expectantly at him. Kevin drew up his practiced smile and the young man continued to smile bank at him. “So,” Kevin said, wiping his hands down on his apron, “How many do you need?”

“About 15,” replied the man, his voice just as high and chipper as Kevin would have expected from looking at him. He was well dressed in layered bright colours and perfectly tidy without a hair out of place. People like that usually made Kevin a little uncomfortable, but for some reason he didn’t mind it so much today. Must have been the potting.

“That’s a lot,” Kevin said as he moved around the table to retrieve the requested flowers. “What’s the occasion?”

“I’m going to see some friends in a show tonight,” he explained, watching as Kevin pulled out the vase of roses. “I wanted to get them some flowers to say congratulations. I would have gotten them all bouquets, but,” ¬- he laughed lightly - “that was a bit outside of my price range.”

“That’s very nice of you,” Kevin said. “Any particular colours?”

“Mm, no,” the customer answered with a shake of his head. “Just, not too many orange ones, if that’s okay.”

“Okay,” Kevin said, pulling the best looking ones from the bunch. Mostly pink, a few red, one or two white or yellow. “Wrap ‘em up for you?”

“Please.” They were quiet for a moment as Kevin got to work and the redhead watched with that smile always on his face. Now the discomfort was starting to set in. The smile looked natural, but overall the customer felt very artificial. Too carefully put together to be real. He glanced a few times behind him before finally saying, “How much for that lily?”

“Not for sale,” Kevin replied, carefully folding over the brown paper wrapping. “Some kid pulled off all the leaves so we gotta throw it out.”

“I’ll buy it.”

Kevin gave him a curious look. “It’s going to die,” he told him. “It can’t survive without its leaves.”

It was almost like the guy didn’t hear him. He walked over to the lily, pink with bursts of yellow spreading out from the centre, and picked it up. “I’m not gonna let them just throw you out,” he told the flower sweetly. Kevin felt a little amused and a disbelieving smile played at his lips. Normally if a customer was being difficult he would feel nothing but frustration and exhaustion, but somehow this act of gentle defiance was nothing but endearing. He tried to hold on to the familiar distrust and discomfort, but his heart wasn’t having it. “I want to buy it. I’ll even pay full price.”

Kevin laughed lightly and raised his eyebrows before turning his attention back to the roses on his table. “Sure, man, whatever you say.”

He could almost feel the satisfaction in the guy’s smile without even seeing it.

Once the roses were cozily bundled up, Kevin escorted the man and his lily out to the counter, careful not to touch him with his dirt-covered hands. When Grant started to argue that the flower wasn’t for sale, Kevin told him, “Just put it through,” and Grant sighed and the odd customer smiled brightly as he paid.

“Thank you!” he called out as he left through the glass door.

“Weirdo,” Grant muttered, just loud enough for Kevin to hear. “Why would you want a dead flower? He’s just going to have to throw it out at the end of the week.”

Kevin agreed with the second sentiment, but kept his mouth shut. The young man had left an odd sort of amusement floating in his chest; his shiny mood rubbing off delightfully on Kevin, and Kevin was still smiling as he got back to work potting the last of the plants. Even though he knew better, he hoped the lily would pull through.

At 3 o’clock he removed his apron, washed his hands, and said goodbye to Grant. He walked home, taking in the late afternoon sun, and arrived shortly before 3:15. Right on schedule. The whole way home he tried to think of the essay he was supposed to be writing for his Myths of the Heroic Era class, attempting to brainstorm a thesis involving Sisyphus and self-punishment, but somehow his mind kept wandering back to the young redhead with the lily.

When he got home and found it empty, he grabbed himself a cold drink and sat down with his computer to research lilies and their leaves.

Arnold arrived home at 5 and he found Kevin still on the couch reading up on bloom periods. “Kev!” he exclaimed. “What happened today, dude? You felt so weird!” He took a running leap and Kevin had to pull back his legs quickly to avoid getting sat on.

“Nothing happened,” Kevin told him, planting his feet on the coffee table. “What do you mean weird? Weird like how?”

Arnold was in a grinning, excitable state, and in the close proximity Kevin could feel it beginning to affect him too. “I dunno, man, weird! Different! Kind of happy, I guess!” He reached out and grabbed Kevin’s ginger ale and took a sip to which Kevin could only offer a weak protest. “Your feelings are usually so straightforward, it’s like this anchor in my brain, but today you were, like, floating or something.”

“Nothing happened,” Kevin repeated, taking his drink back and setting it on his other side out of reach of his roommate. “Everything was normal. I went to work, I repotted some plants, I sold some stuff, I bought lunch, it was normal! It was the same as it always is.”

Arnold grinned and his voice sounded on the verge of laughing. “Oh, dude, you are so lying. You met someone, didn’t you! You totally met someone!”

“No I didn’t!” Kevin was getting a little annoyed and he tried to turn his attention back to his computer screen, wanting to shut out his overly invasive companion. “It was a totally normal perfectly average day.”

“You’re such a liar,” Arnold said, settling into the cushions. “I can always tell when you’re lying, Kevin, I can feel it.”

“Now that’s a lie,” Kevin rebutted, “You know darn well that’s not how the whole soulmate thing works.”

“It’s not a soulmate thing, you’re just really bad at lying, and also I can feel there’s something different so I know something happened.”

“I hate having you in my head sometimes,” Kevin muttered, leaning his head in his hand and redoubling his efforts to focus on the houseplant forum he was reading.

“What’re you looking at?” Suddenly Arnold’s face was very close to his and Kevin flinched back very nearly spilling his ginger ale.

“I’m doing some research on lilies for work,” he told him. It was only a half-lie, but from the look on Arnold’s face he may as well have told him the sky was made of feathers and the clouds were the eggs of the giant space birds who shed them.

“Who are you giving a lily to?” Arnold teased.

“I’m not giving a lily to anyone!” This was becoming irritating, he really should have been doing this in his room. “A customer came in today and bought a lily and they asked me a question I didn’t know the answer to, so I’m just looking it up now.”

“Sure, sure,” Arnold said, sitting back in his seat again though he had clearly not given up.

“Did you talk to that girl again today?” Kevin asked, hoping to deflect the other boy’s attention.

It worked immensely well and Arnold’s face lit up with a different kind of excitement. “Yeah, she texted me last night! She wants to see me again next week, can you believe it?”

“I cannot.”

They sat there for another hour as Arnold gushed, talking about how this was the girl of his dreams and they would probably fall in love, and Kevin pretended to listen to all of it while he only listened to half of it. The other half of his mind kept slipping over to the artificial boy and his genuine smile.

They had macaroni and cheese for dinner that night and watched the original Star Wars movie together. Arnold quoted the dialogue in time with the actors and Kevin went back and forth between laughing and asking him to please stop. After the movie they faced one another on the couch and clasped their right hands together, letting the blue light encompass them. Arnold told him more about the girl, who he insisted was named Nicotine, and about the pop culture class he had sat through. Kevin told him about Grant and Chris and about his sandwich and the plants he had to repot. He didn’t tell him about the redhead. He wasn’t sure why.

After they talked, Kevin went to his room to work on his essays and readings, leaving Arnold to watch Stargate with a bowl of popcorn that kept spilling out onto the carpet. At 10 o’clock, Kevin went to bed. At 2 o’clock, Kevin woke up in a cold sweat, heart pounding, and went to Arnold’s room where he was welcomed with open arms and a blue glow. At 2:24 Kevin went back to sleep and he dreamed of nothing at all.

If Kevin Price had been asked if his life were normal he would pause. Normal is a relative term. Kevin would not say his life was normal, but he would not say it was abnormal. It was not necessarily a life that many people had, but it was not so uncommon as to be described as such.

Normal to one person may be abnormal to another. For example, Kevin’s life before the party was (relatively) normal for Kevin, but for anyone else it could be considered abnormal. Kevin’s life after the party was (relatively) abnormal for Kevin, but for anyone else it could be considered exceedingly strange and remarkable.

If Kevin Price had been asked if his life were normal, his answer would depend upon what point in his life you asked him. If you asked him after the party he would have said, “No, my life is not normal.” If you asked him before the party he would pause, shrug, and say, “Sure, I guess so.”

As it was, Kevin could not have known how strange and remarkable and decidedly abnormal his life was going to become and neither could anyone else. One week prior to the party, in fact, his life would be considered very normal and boring for Kevin Price standards, no matter the standards of anyone else.


	2. Kevin Price Goes to the Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a description of a panic attack near the end of the chapter

Kevin worked on Saturdays, but on Sundays he slept in. It was the only day where he didn’t get up before Arnold and he always made himself pancakes with peach slices to be eaten with a delicious cup of coffee. The rest of the day was dedicated to church, homework, and relaxation. Kevin liked Sundays.

Arnold liked Sundays too. The two of them went to the same church and they would often walk home rather than take the bus. If it was warm enough they would get ice cream. It was routine, which Kevin liked, and it got them moving, which Arnold liked. It got them outside, which they both liked.

Walking through the city on a Sunday was an interesting experience. Sundays always felt lazy, a sleepy feeling falling over the neighbourhood and lending a slow contentedness to the inhabitants. Most people were in pairs, soulmates enjoying the day together and every now and then they could see their souls, hands pressed to hands, to faces, to shoulders and necks and arms, all bringing forth a burst of coloured light.

Passing by the coffee shop Kevin liked, they could see a trio of elderly ladies sitting inside, their hands gently held over the table as soft lavender light wafted around them. Sitting outside the coffee shop was a man and a woman, reading a book and a magazine respectively, their little fingers just grazing, enough to give the hint of a pretty red glow.

Kevin liked his blue light with Arnold. It was a rich and vibrant hue and the comfort of it was unparalleled. Contact with a soulmate was meant to cause comfort, but the colour alone was enough for Kevin at this point. Blue things had a calming effect on him.

“Can we get ice cream?” Arnold asked.

“I don’t think it’s really warm enough for that today,” Kevin replied, watching a couple walking down the sidewalk opposite. They were holding hands, but there was no light. Boyfriend and girlfriend, he figured. Rarely did soulmates venture into romances with one another. It had been known to happen, but generally it was frowned upon. The bond made them like siblings or close cousins. It was weird.

“Come on, Kev, I want ice cream.” Arnold didn’t even wait for a reply before he ducked into the ice cream store they were passing.

Kevin sighed and rolled his eyes, but he followed. Moments later they emerged with a cone each, strawberry for Arnold and French vanilla for Kevin, which he didn’t really want. It made Arnold happy, though, which by extension made Kevin happy.

“What’d you think of the sermon?” Kevin asked. Neither of them were particularly devout Mormons, but having been brought up in the church, it was easier to just keep going.

“Kind of boring,” Arnold replied, taking a lick of his cone. “Would’ve been so much better with dragons or something. Oh! Lasers! Lasers would have been really cool.”

Kevin laughed. “Joseph Smith with lasers is something I can definitely get behind.”

“He would have kicked butt with lasers,” Arnold agreed. “Pew pew!”

“Take that Lamanites!”

Once Arnold had finished his ice cream he finished Kevin’s as well. They arrived home at 2 o’clock and Kevin immediately went to the kitchen to fetch Arnold some napkins. “If you just ate like a normal person,” Kevin told him, “then you’d be able to open a door by yourself.”

Arnold took the napkins from him and wiped the copious amounts of melted ice cream off his fingers. “I told you I could have gotten it, it’s all about the elbows.”

“There’s ice cream on your elbows too.” He returned to the kitchen to wash his own hands and came back out to find Arnold had made himself comfortable on the couch. “Listen, I need to go to the library for a bit and pick up some books, you gonna be good on your own?”

Arnold scoffed, turning on the TV. “I’m not a baby, Kevin, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Kevin said, retrieving his bag from his room. “Don’t light anything on fire this time.”

“I was a flambé! It was supposed to be on fire!”

“Not according to the recipe. See you later!” He closed the door before Arnold could refute it.

It took him 10 minutes by bus to reach the school and soon he was standing in the stacks, searching through the theology section for anything about ghosts. The whole essay was kind of pointless, a desperate bid to do something different and get the notice of his teacher who was notorious for picking favourites. He didn’t even really want to be in the class, a first year contemporary theatre course he was only taking to fulfill his arts requirement, which had gone overlooked in first and second year. It wasn’t his first choice, but he’d much rather be doing this than acting or drawing or some other thing he wasn’t good at. Essays were his strong suit.

In addition to Sundays, plants and Arnold, Kevin liked libraries. He liked the books and the information and the organizational system and he liked the quiet. On weekdays the library would be bustling, but on a Sunday it was positively dead. He pretty much had the entire floor to himself, which was why his heart dropped a little when he heard the elevator doors open and close. The last thing he wanted was some noisy kid messing up his concentration.

He heard the book cart rolling across the carpeted floor and sighed a little. Well at least a librarian wouldn’t be too noisy. He turned his attention back to the books and tentatively pulled out a volume on early Catholicism and ancient medieval beliefs (with a focus on purgatory for the more adventurous academics). Flipping through the engraved visuals he was thankful he wasn’t the type to have nightmares. Or at least not the kind you can remember.

The cart rattled into view at the end of the aisle Kevin occupied and looking up he was surprised to see a familiar face. “Oh,” he said, unable to keep the shock from his expression. “Hi.”

The redhead smiled broadly. “Well, hello! Fancy meeting you here.” He lifted a couple of books from the cart and tucked them away on the shelf. “You need anything, you let me know.”

“Yeah,” Kevin said. He watched for a moment as the young man continued to shelve books, a chipper smile constantly displayed as though there were nowhere he’d rather be. Kevin couldn’t help but wonder if the smile was entirely real, but after a moment more he decided that it probably was, this guy probably was just that happy.

It was a curious feeling to see a customer outside of the shop, the same kind of feeling you get from seeing your teacher at the grocery store or noticing an acquaintance you haven’t seen in ten years walking on the other side of the street with whom you have no desire to reconnect with whatsoever. It was an odd breach of Kevin’s ingrained protocol, swapping their roles, and even though he didn’t really know this guy it felt weird to be asking him for help.

“Um,” he said, earning the redhead’s attention. He looked to him expectantly, a different kind of expectant than he had that first time they had met over a bundle of roses.

“Something I can do?”

“Er, yeah, actually. I’m trying to find books on ghosts.”

“Ghosts.”

“Yeah, it’s for a paper.”

The other boy smirked and Kevin shifted the modest pile of books already in his arms self-consciously. “Well, I’m sure I can help with that,” the boy said, leaving his cart behind to come over to where Kevin stood. He was well dressed, much like the first time they met, and his hair was perfectly arranged. Everything about him felt pristine, right down to the pleasantly fresh scent that wafted after him. “Are you looking specifically for religion-based work?”

“Not really, no,” Kevin answered as the titles in his arms were examined. “I mean, it’s helpful to the paper for them to be religion-based, but anything on ghosts would be useful. It’s for a theatre course, but the outline for the essay pretty much left it up to us.”

“And you decided on ghosts?”

“It’s interesting,” Kevin replied, feeling a little defensive. “It’ll get me a good grade.”

“I’ll say it’s interesting.” He placed a hand on top of the book pile in Kevin’s arms once he had finished reading all the titles. “Well I think you’ve got everything worthwhile from this section. I’d suggest you take a look around in philosophy or the drama section. It’s a drama course, after all, it’d probably help to relate it back to the class.”

“I’m not sure where the drama section is.”

“It’s on the 6th floor. Come on, I’ll show you.” He turned back down the aisle and Kevin hurried after, leaving the cart of books behind. “My name’s Connor, by the way,” the boy said without looking back.

“Kevin,” said Kevin.

“You work at the flower shop right?”

“Plant shop,” Kevin corrected as they came to the elevators. Connor pressed the button and Kevin looked up at the glowing numbers above the door anxiously. When had he become anxious? He was always anxious, but not this kind of anxious. This didn’t feel right at all.

“You like working there?”

“It’s okay,” Kevin said with a shrug. “Better than a coffee shop, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that,” Connor said with a smile. “My soulmate works at one, he says it’s terrible. They always get the worst customers.”

The elevator arrived and they both stepped in. When the doors closed, Kevin became very aware of just how small the space around them was. “Bet it’s a lot better working in a library,” Kevin said, begging the elevator to go faster.

“You’d think that, but it can get pretty rowdy at times. Sometimes I even have to shush people.” Connor laughed at his own comment and Kevin found himself smiling. “But honestly, around exams and midterms this place gets packed and we get all sorts of trouble.”

“I’ve never seen you here before. Or maybe I have and I just didn’t notice.”

“What, you come here often?” Another laugh. The boy seemed utterly delighted by himself.

The elevator doors opened onto the 6th floor and Kevin stepped gratefully through, Connor right behind him. “You’ll probably be best off with something on phenomenology or semiotics,” Connor told him, leading them through into the room. A few students were scattered about, silently absorbed in their work, and the two of them walked across the carpeted floor through to a shelf where Connor stopped them.

“You seem to know a lot about this,” Kevin commented as Connor combed through the authors.

“It is my job, you know. Also I’m a theatre major,” he replied, pulling out a thin book by someone named Keir Elam. “I don’t really pay much attention in class, but after five years you sort of pick up on it.” He placed the book on top of Kevin’s pile and moved down the aisle.

“Did your friends like the flowers?”

Connor turned a giant smile to Kevin and the anxiety eased a bit. “They did, they loved them! The show was fantastic, they really did deserve bouquets.”

“Stick all 15 together and you’ve got one.”

Connor let out a short, delighted laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right! You should see the show, by the way, this was just the opening weekend, they’re performing again next Friday.”

Kevin still wasn’t certain about Connor, but he felt he should at least be kind. “Yeah, that’d be cool,” he said with a smile.

Connor flashed him another brilliant smile and turned back to the shelves. “So what’s your major, then? Something to do with religion?”

“Kind of,” Kevin answered, watching Connor’s fingers glide over the book spines, stopping every now and then as he read a name or a title. “I’m a philosophy major with a minor in religion. I mostly study ethics.”

“Heavy stuff,” Connor said without looking up. “So you probably know all about phenomenology, huh? What are you gonna do with it?”

It was a question Kevin heard a lot. No one really understood why he studied philosophy. It’s a dead end, they would tell him, all you could do is teach, there’s nothing in the field for you. Kevin disagreed. He wasn’t sure what he would do with it, but he knew he could do something, and he wasn’t about to let people tell him it was pointless. At this point in his studies, most everything he did for his degree was driven by pure spite towards the people who told him it wasn’t useful.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Might apply for law school. Maybe go into the church.”

“So you are religious.”

“Mormon.”

Connor looked up at that, a hard to read expression on his face. “Oh,” was all he said. He pulled another book off the shelf and barely glanced at the cover before putting it with the others. Kevin’s arms were growing tired. “Well, it’s good to have a purpose,” Connor said, a smile suddenly on his face again like nothing had happened. Nothing really had happened, but Kevin felt like he had made a misstep.

“And you’re gonna be an actor?”

“That’s the dream.” They rounded the corner into the next aisle and Kevin tried to lean some of the weight of his books on the shelf. “I’d really like to be on Broadway, but I think everyone’s got that in their head. I don’t even know why, Broadway’s just kind of a big deal, everyone wants to go there. I’d be perfectly happy doing community theatre for the rest of my life, I suspect, but it’s kind of motivating to have goals.”

“How hard can it be?”

“Exactly!” Connor exclaimed, pulling out a book, inspecting it, then replacing it. “How hard can it be? How hard can any of it be? There’s nothing stopping me, I just have to work at it. And whether I’m in theatre on Broadway or in Utah, at least I’d be an actor, right? I’d be doing what I love with great people. I’m making stories happen.”

Kevin got the feeling this was a topic Connor thought about a lot, possibly one he didn’t get to express very often. He was kind of excited by the enthusiasm and the pure energy radiating from Connor, his arms flailing about as he spoke like he couldn’t contain himself even as he sorted through books distractedly. He was a very individual person and Kevin liked it.

“I’m going to be valedictorian,” Kevin told him proudly.

“Good for you!” Connor said, encouragingly. “You’re gonna be valedictorian and I’m gonna be an actor and how hard can any of it be? We’ve got the right stuff. I can act and sing and dance, you’ve got lots of books and they look complicated so you’re probably smart- What am I saying, you’re in a library on a Sunday afternoon, you’re probably the biggest nerd in the world.”

“Hey, you’re here too.”

“Yes, honey, but I’m getting paid.” He placed another book in Kevin’s arms and Kevin felt like he might tip over. “That should do it.”

“Good, because I really don’t think I can carry any more.” Connor helped him right himself from the bookshelf, and his hands hovered over the stack for a moment before he was sure Kevin wasn’t going to come crashing down.

“Think you can get all those down to the checkout by yourself?”

Kevin adjusted his hands to get a better grip and nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

Connor smiled. “Good because I need to go back to shelving. I probably should not have left that cart unattended, but you needed help and you’re cute so it’s fine.”

A blush spread across Kevin’s cheeks and he thought he saw a touch of amusement in the smile. “Thanks for your help,” he said, thoroughly embarrassed by the compliment and eager to get back to his work.

“No problem!” Connor said, directing the two of them back to the elevator. “It’s all in a days work. And it was really great to meet you again.”

“Likewise.”

The elevator opened and they both stepped in. “Good luck with that paper,” Connor said, hitting their respective floors. “Looks like it’s going to be a doozy.”

“It’s no big deal,” Kevin told him, trying his best to shrug and definitely not succeeding. “It’s not even that long, I just wanted to cover all my bases.”

“What did I say? Nerd.” The door to the 4th floor opened and Connor stepped out. “See you around Kevin! Have run reading. And don’t forget to come see the show!”

“See you,” Kevin replied as the doors closed. He felt kind of unsteady, not just because of the books, but from the whole interaction. Connor was possibly the most vibrant person Kevin had ever met, energetic like Arnold was, but it his own entirely unique way. He left Kevin feeling warm and happy, and distracted enough that he almost didn’t notice when the doors opened to the main floor.

He managed to get the books to the front where they finally collapsed, spreading chaotically across the counter and getting him a withering glare from the librarian. Once they were checked out and evenly distributed between bag and arms, Kevin was on his way back home. Even before he stepped on the bus he could feel Arnold’s excitement and curiosity, and Kevin realized he was not going to have a fun time when he got home.

Arriving through the door, he made the decision that he would just avoid it altogether. He kicked off his shoes, proclaimed, “I don’t want to talk about it,” and hurried off to his room before he could get a reply. Focusing on his work was surprisingly difficult, but he managed to force himself to get through a few chapters before he smelled the delicious scent of pizza and finally emerged from his room.

Arnold didn’t ask about what had happened, but throughout the movie they were watching with dinner (Murder by Death) he cast curious glances in Kevin’s direction and Kevin could feel the heavy pressure of Arnold’s interest. When the movie was over and their pizza was gone, they set aside their dishes and made the connection.

“What happened, dude?” Arnold asked, no longer able to contain himself.

In the comforting glow, Kevin wondered why he was so loath to tell Arnold about Connor. They were soulmates, they were meant to tell each other everything. Taking a breath, he pushed past his gut instinct to lie and say it was nothing and he told him.

“There was this guy working at the library today,” he began, and immediately he felt the thrill in Arnold’s heart. “His name’s Connor and he’s kind of weird. I’ve met him before, at Florgettabaoutit- Remember on Friday when you asked what made me feel weird? It was because he came in and asked for a bunch of roses and a lily, I don’t know what was weird about what I was feeling, I was just kind of… It was funny, I guess. He’s a really happy person and it rubs off on me. But anyways, I saw him again today and he helped me find some books and we got to talking, mostly just about school. It was weird, he was weird, but I felt kind of… anxious, I don’t know. But like a happy anxious? He’s got like a really big personality and I didn’t mind being around him.”

Arnold looked ready to burst, his grip on Kevin’s hand trembling with giddy energy. “Dude, you totally like this guy,” he said, voice falling into a snicker. “That’s so cute.”

“No,” Kevin said, holding up a finger. “No, I don’t like him like that. I know what a crush feels like, Arnold, I’m not an idiot, he’s just super weird.”

“You 100% have a crush on this guy you just met,” Arnold said, still smiling animatedly.

“I don’t!”

“Ooh, Connor!” Arnold cooed, fluttering his eyes. “What a dreamboat. At long last someone’s stolen the heart of the icy Kevin Price.”

Kevin withdrew his hand and crossed his arms, not in the least bit amused. “No one’s stolen anybody’s heart, he’s just some guy I met who happens to be really weird.”

“The fact that you keep saying he’s weird is just more proof that you like him,” Arnold told him, which didn’t really make sense in Kevin’s opinion. Arnold’s face lit up suddenly as a thought crossed his mind. “Did you say he bought a lily? Is that why you were looking up lilies? Because of him? Is that why you were being so weird about it?”

“He bought a lily that was going to die and I wanted to- No! I don’t have to explain myself to you!” The feeling of Arnold’s joy in Kevin’s head was infectious, but he fought it with all his might, refusing to give in.

“Is he cute?” Arnold asked, leaning his chin on his hand like some kid gossiping at a sleepover.

“Maybe? I’ve got no idea. He said I was cute.” Arnold’s eyebrows shot up and his grin split his face in two. “No,” Kevin repeated.

“He thinks you’re cute, Kevin!” he exclaimed. “You’ve totally got an in! He likes you too, that’s so rad!”

“No! Not ‘too’! There’s no ‘too’ about it! This is a one way thing if it’s going in any direction at all!”

“You gotta show me this guy,” Arnold declared, grabbing Kevin’s laptop from the coffee table and handing it to him. “I need to know what he looks like.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” Kevin muttered even as he typed in his password. The moment he finished, Arnold grabbed the computer back. Kevin called out, “Hey!” but Arnold was already opening Facebook and typing away. In spite of himself, Kevin smiled. It was hard to sulk when you had a bundle of happy emotions sitting right in front of you and leaking into your mind. Soulmates, he thought, were more trouble than they were worth. “How do you even think you’re going to find him?”

Arnold looked up at him with a fresh burst of excitement. “I don’t have to!” he exclaimed, turning the computer to face Kevin. “He already found you! He sent you a friend request.”

“There’s no notification.”

“Yeah, I already accepted it.”

“What?!”

Arnold sidled up next to Kevin so they could both see the screen, one of them bubbling with energy and the other weighted down with dread. “You’re so lucky I don’t know what your new girlfriend’s name is,” Kevin muttered bitterly.

“He’s cute,” Arnold gushed, clicking through pictures of Connor. Connor McKinley as it turned out. Most of them were selfies, alone or with friends, but there were a lot of pictures of him in strange costumes in studios and on stages as well. “But you’re right, he does look really weird.”

“He’s an actor,” Kevin explained, his initial sense of betrayal fading away as he became absorbed in the images. “He wants to be on Broadway.”

“Ooh, and he’s an actor!” Arnold cooed.

They landed on a picture of Connor posing among a group of people, each of them holding a rose in their hand and all smiling deliriously. “Those are the roses he bought from me,” Kevin said. Arnold hit the like button. “Arnold!”

Arnold was smiling devilishly. “If you like the picture he’ll know you’re thinking of him!”

“He won’t think that, he’ll just think I’m Facebook stalking him!”

“Well, aren’t you?”

“No! You are! I’m an innocent bystander!” Kevin threw himself over the arm of the couch, unable to face the torment that was sitting next to him.

“They’re your roses, though, he won’t mind.”

“They’re not my roses,” Kevin replied, head hanging over the oblivion beside the couch. He could feel the blood pooling in his skull and tried to focus on that instead of Arnold’s joy. “They’re roses he happened to buy at store I happen to work at. I have nothing to do with it.”

“I think he’s an extrovert,” Arnold mused, the sound of the clicking mousepad filling Kevin with despair. “You’re more of an introvert, I think, I’m not sure how compatible you two are.”

“Do you know how much I hate you?”

“You love me,” Arnold said, the sound of a smile in his voice.

Kevin lay still for a while longer, eyes closed, listening to his best friend clicking through pictures of someone he barely knew. After a while he felt both of them calm down and he pulled himself off the armrest to lean over against Arnold’s shoulder, looking down at the glow of the computer screen. It was getting dark outside and they hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights so all they had was the glow of the television DVD menu and the light of Connor’s photo album. He looked so happy in all his pictures, just like he did in real life. Vibrant, exuberant, the picture of joy and contentedness. There was no way a person like this could be real.

Suddenly a picture came up that made his eyebrows knit together and a wave of confusion hit him, making Arnold’s finger pause. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Go back a picture,” Kevin said, not raising his head from where it rested on Arnold’s shoulder. Arnold complied and Kevin examined the image closely. It was a picture of Connor with a group of people at a bar. The taker of the picture filled up half of the screen with the rest of her friends smiling up at the camera from their seats behind her, the very image of camaraderie and good times. Connor was almost immediately behind her, flashing a toothy grin and holding up his glass, but it was the person sitting next to him that had caught Kevin’s eye. “That’s Chris,” he exclaimed, feeling a little baffled. “He works at the coffee shop I go to, I see him like every day.”

“Oh cool, I guess they know each other,” Arnold said, not sounding very impressed.

“Connor mentioned that his soulmate worked at a coffee shop, I think he might have been talking about Chris.”

“Maybe you should ask Chris about him, then.”

“Ask him what?” Kevin said, examining all of the faces in the photo to make sure Chris was the only one he recognized.

“I dunno, if he’s interested in you?”

Kevin sat up sharply. “Why would I ask him that?” he proclaimed. “I’m not interested in him, why would I need to know if he’s interested in me?” Arnold gave him a knowing look and Kevin found himself sputtering. “I’m not!” he insisted. “Literally all that’s happened here is that I met some guy and you’ve taken things way out of context!” Arnold raised his eyebrows, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Realizing this was a lost cause, Kevin sighed and dropped his head back down on Arnold. “Go to the next picture,” he instructed resignedly.

They spent more time than Kevin intended going through Connor’s albums, seeing a lot of smiling faces and finding out surprisingly little. It wasn’t until 8pm that Kevin realized he really needed to get back to work. They had wasted the evening away gawking at this boy who was, okay, he could admit it, pretty cute, and now he felt it was time he get back to his various essays. He was very careful to make sure his laptop went with him.

Kevin wound up going to bed later that night than usual and he regretted the knowledge that he was losing sleep over anything, least of all a boy. Perhaps it was that later bedtime, or maybe it was his guilt at letting something distract him from his academics, or maybe it was something else entirely, but that night, Kevin remembered his dream.

Up until that point, Kevin hadn’t remembered a single nightmare since he was a child, the only dreams he remembered being the ones that came after when he was safe with Arnold. But that particular night he could see the dream so clearly, and he came to realize what a blessing it had been to be able to forget.

The dream itself wasn’t really a frightening one, or at least it shouldn’t have been. In the dream he saw himself. But it wasn’t himself. He could see that the man in his dream looked just like him, that for all intents and purposes it was him, but he knew with all his heart and soul that the man was not him. The man stood amid stacks of books, the vast emptiness beyond the books a glowing black that leaked between the novels and textbooks and crept at the feet of the man who wasn’t him. He stood there staring off to his left, face blank and expressionless, unmoving. Kevin found that he could not move either, simply exist, but not existing, with no physical body, but with the ability to see and think and feel. The two of them existed together amidst the books, the darkness ebbing and flowing around them, never still, almost alive, and everything was silent.

Suddenly, the man’s head snapped over, his eyes instantly trained on Kevin, and Kevin found he could not look away. The effect was immediate. His heart was racing, his breath was laboured, in his stomach collected the strongest sense of fear and disgust and guilt, so much guilt. And in his mind he knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he did not wake up, he would die.

It was the shout of his name that pulled him out of it. He heard it once in his sleep, Arnold’s voice calling from his own room beyond their doors, and his eyes were still trapped in the gaze of the man who wasn’t Kevin, his body immobile and his heart close to bursting. “Kevin!” came the cry again, from just outside his door, and suddenly he was able to turn his head, lurching out of the dream and into the darkness of his bedroom.

He sat up, knowing that if he let sleep take him again he would fall right back into the dream, terrified that it would catch up to him. His heart was pounding away in his chest, painfully fast like a heart attack, and his breathing was short and fast and shallow, and all he could think about was that face staring into him.

Arnold burst into his room, charging over to the bed where Kevin sat, eyes wide and hyperventilating, his lungs refusing to take in air beyond a tiny, painful gasp. Arnold grabbed Kevin’s face, forcing him to look into his wide and horrified eyes. “Kevin! Kevin, look at me!” he yelled, his other hand landing on Kevin’s shoulder. Kevin’s whole body was buzzing, his chest was on fire, his head was getting light, and the fear and the disgust and the guilt would not leave him.

“Kevin, buddy, look at me!” Kevin tried to focus his eyes on the face in front of him, frowning in his efforts and both of them so close to tears. He couldn’t speak, he could only sit and stare. “Kevin, breath,” Arnold instructed, his own breath sounding shaky, like he was holding back a panic attack of his own. It was one of the downsides of feeling each other’s emotions. It was sometimes difficult to differentiate your own feelings from those leaking into you, and right now Kevin’s panic seemed to be overwhelming Arnold.

“Breath,” Arnold repeated, putting a hand to Kevin’s aching chest. Arnold took a noisy breath in through his nose, encouraging Kevin to do the same, then let it out through his mouth in a gust. “Come on, buddy, take a breath.” He did it again and Kevin tried to follow. “In.” He sucked in a breath. Kevin couldn’t. “And out.” He blew it out. Kevin sobbed.

Tears began streaming down his face as the shock of it all wore off and the terror gripped him fully. “Come on, buddy, work with me,” Arnold insisted, remarkably levelheaded, but physically shaking. He moved his hands so he was gently gripping the sides of Kevin’s face. Blue light spilled over them, lighting up their skin and soaking through Kevin’s pores into his heart. With the help of the connection, he was able to redouble his focus, Arnold forcing the calm he wasn’t feeling to flow between them. “Deep breath, now, come on.”

Arnold breathed in and Kevin found he was able to take in a shaky breath of his own. They spent several minutes just breathing, staring at one another, refusing to let go or look away. Once Kevin was able, he cried, sobbing pathetically into Arnold’s shoulder. It had never been that bad before, he had never been so completely lost in the fear. He had never remembered it before.

He cried until he couldn’t anymore. Sitting on the edge of his bed, head and arms limply draped over Arnold’s shoulders, Arnold himself crouched on the floor, arms tight around Kevin. Eventually, Arnold stood up, laying Kevin back in his bed, lifting his exhausted legs in and under the covers, then he climbed in next to him and held him close.

Kevin lay there, staring off into the dark, feeling Arnold’s chest rise and fall beneath his hand, barely feeling anything else. Numb.


	3. Kevin Price Goes to School

They didn’t talk about it the next morning. Arnold didn’t ask any questions, didn’t suggest therapy, simply ate his cereal in silence while Kevin ran a spoon through his own bowl. He could feel Arnold’s burning concern and he hated it. He wasn’t hungry.

They both had class Monday morning at different ends of the campus. Arnold offered to walk with him, but Kevin, still feeling weary and not entirely present, told him to go on ahead. They left together and then parted at the end of the street, Arnold to the nearby bus stop and Kevin to his preferred coffee shop. He may not have wanted to exist at that moment, but he still needed to be awake for class.

“Hey Kevin,” Chris called as he stepped through the door. Kevin nodded back. “Wow, you look like shit.”

“Rough night,” Kevin told him blankly.

“Yeah, me too,” Chris replied, punching in Kevin’s usual order. “Hardly got any sleep last night. I’ve got class later today, too, I don’t know how I’m gonna make it through that.” He laughed. “I’m barely awake right now. Lucky I’m not taking a full course load, eh?”

“Yeah,” Kevin said, handing him a bill. He couldn’t find the energy to fake his way through this conversation. Chris seemed to sense this and his face set. He handed Kevin his change without another word and went to work making his order, black coffee with two sugars. Same thing every day. Always the same.

Kevin watched him pour the coffee and the scent helped rouse him a little. He remembered the question he had been meaning to ask that day and while he didn’t really feel like getting into a full conversation at just that moment he figured he might forget by the time he got around to it. “Hey Chris?”

“Mm hm?”

“Do you know Connor McKinley?”

Chris flashed a smile, putting the finished coffee on the glass counter between them. “Yeah, he’s my soulmate! You met him yesterday right? He mentioned it to me last night. Said you were talking about ghosts.”

“Kind of,” Kevin responded flatly. “He’s very energetic.”

“Yeah, he’s a sweet guy,” Chris said fondly. “I said I knew you, it was why I recommended Florgettaboutit to him. He told me he thought you were really cute, told me to say hi for him.”

Kevin nodded, still pretty lost in his head fog. “Yeah, he told me I was cute,” he muttered. He took a sip of his coffee, got scalded, and spit it back into the cup. It woke him up a bit at least.

“Hey listen, we should all hang out sometime,” Chris suggested, making the merciful choice not to laugh at Kevin’s pained expression or the way he stuck his tongue out trying to get the air to ease the burn. “You and me and Connor and your soulmate, we could go clubbing or something. Or if that’s not really your thing we could just grab drinks or whatever.”

“Yeah…” Kevin said, rubbing at his eyes. God, his tongue hurt.

“Or not,” Chris said, seemingly interpreting Kevin’s lack of enthusiasm as him just being too polite to say no. “It’s cool, man, we don’t have to, I just thought it might be fun.”

“No! No, that’d be great,” Kevin exclaimed, feeling a little guilty at the despondency on Chris’s face. He made his face pleasant and forced his eyes to look up, thankful for the training that had been burned into him since childhood. “Yeah, that’d be cool. I just don’t really know if I’ve got the time, I’ve got a lot on my plate right now…”

“Yeah, you always seem super busy. Connor told me you make a lot of work for yourself. But hey, if you change your mind shoot him a message and we’ll figure something out.”

Kevin didn’t have a lot of friends. He had Arnold and a few people he talked to in class, but there was no one he really spent time with casually. It was partly because he was always working and partly because forging connections with people just didn’t seem like a good use of his energy. There were plenty of people who liked him and there were plenty who he liked, but beyond that, it just seemed kind of pointless. Besides, he had Arnold, why would he need anyone else.

But after he left the coffee shop that morning, nursing his singed tongue and slowly but surely slipping into the waking world, he found the idea of going out with Chris and Connor to be almost… appealing. In fact, as he arrived at lecture and set out his things, saying hellos to a few of his classmates, he realized that he would actually really like it.

Once he was settled in and the professor was still a few minutes away from starting up he wrote a text to Arnold:

‘Hey Arn, wanna go for drinks with Chris and Connor?’

He stared at it for a long moment, then deleted it. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking of this stuff, he needed to focus. Midterms were right around the corner and he was at the top of his class. He had to really buckle down if he wanted to maintain that position and going out for drinks with people he was acquaintances with at best was not the way to do that.

Kevin put away his phone and got his pen out, intent on making it through the class without letting anything distract him. It worked for the most part. Niggling in the back of his mind he could feel Arnold. He seemed to have moved on from his concern and on to some delighted joy. He was probably texting with that poor girl whose name he couldn’t remember. Boredom was an easy feeling to ignore so Kevin usually had no problem getting through lecture without distraction, but this new relationship was really wreaking havoc with his academics. If he wasn’t so emotionally exhausted he might have worked up the energy to be annoyed, but as it was he just pushed through.

He tried not to think about Chris and Connor.

After the class on Confucianism came a class on Theory of Knowledge followed by a short break and all of it capped of with his mythology course. Mondays were long and tiring, but he enjoyed having a busy schedule, it kept his mind moving and gave him focus. Once he got out of his final class of the day he would normally head home straight away and take a quick dinner break with Arnold before getting started on his homework. Today, however, he took a detour.

The Dramatic Arts program had their own building on campus, converted from an old religious studies hall, all brickwork and faded stained glass. He had never been inside it before and he took a moment to look around and admire the architecture. There were a lot of old buildings on campus, most of them reserved for the smaller faculties, but all of Kevin’s courses kept him exclusively in the more modern structures and annexes. The old hall had a peacefulness about it that he could very much appreciate. It felt calm and open and warm.

After a moment of gazing about the entryway, a large room that branched off into carved staircases and featured a pretty stained glass window that dominated the opposite wall, he realized he wasn’t entirely certain what he was doing there. The thought had crossed his mind to buy a ticket to the play Connor had told him about, but there didn’t seem to be any sort of box office in the immediate vicinity. A bulletin board to his left was covered in flyers and posters, so he wandered over, hoping to see something related to this play, which he was now realizing he didn’t even know the name of. None of the posters or flyers really helped him, most of them advertising audition opportunities or independent productions in the community. None of them really stood out as being the one he was meant to be seeing.

“Kevin?” cried out an increasingly familiar voice. Kevin turned to find Connor standing at the landing of one of the large staircases, leaning over the bannister and smiling brightly.

Kevin smiled too, a tiny bolt of joy glimmering in his numb chest at the presence of his chipper acquaintance. “Hey Connor,” he replied.

Connor pulled back from the railing to say something hurriedly to the small group he had been walking with, and then he parted from them, trotting down the stairs to the tile floor below. “Kevin, what are you doing here?” he asked as he approached.

“I wanted to see that play you were mentioning yesterday,” he told him, a little amazed at the coincidence that they could happen to be in the same place at the same time on three separate occasions in the past week. It was one hell of a happenstance. “I was going to grab a ticket, but then I realized I didn’t actually know where they were sold.”

“Oh, that happens all the time,” Connor said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “They put the box office in the Thistle Complex because it gets more foot traffic, but it mostly just makes it impossible to find if you aren’t used to it. I’d take you there myself, but I’ve got to get to rehearsal soon. But if you’ll just give me a second…” He began rummaging around in his bag and then triumphantly whipped out a folded sheet of paper. Once he had opened it up, Kevin could see it was a worn out map of the school, the kind they had at the information desk. “I get lost all the time when I have to get around the newer buildings,” Connor explained as he searched his bag for a pen. “But I think I can make do for this week.” He pulled out a pen and clicked it open with a satisfied grin. Then he pressed the sheet up against the bulletin board and drew an X in one of the pods of the Thistle Complex. “The box office is right here, just across from that Thai Fusion place near the gyms. The theatre is in here, though, so you should be good to go there.” He flipped the page over and scribbled something on the back before folding it up again and holding it out.

“Thanks,” Kevin said, taking the paper from him gratefully.

“No problem! It was good seeing you again! Glad you decided to come see the show.”

“You too,” Kevin said, and he meant it. There really was something about Connor that just made him inexplicably happy. It was like a virus or a drug. In just a few short moments he had already burned past whatever barrier had been built in Kevin’s brain when he had woken up that morning.

As Connor was just turning to leave, he suddenly spun back around and said, “By the way, I got a text from Chris earlier, he said the two of you were talking about the bunch of us going out for drinks sometime?”

“Yeah, we were.”

“Yeah, ignore that. Just get a ticket to the Saturday show instead of the Friday one and then you can just come with us to the cast party that night! Way more fun than some bar. And bring your soulmate too,” he instructed, starting to walk backwards towards where his friends were waiting at the base of the stairs. “The more the merrier.”

“Sure thing,” Kevin replied.

Connor shot him one last smile before returning to his waiting group and then disappearing through an open doorway. Moments later Kevin was still smiling after him, the short interaction leaving him warm and happy. Looking down at the paper in his hands he opened it up and flipped it over. In blue ink on the back, Connor had written down his number along with a rather messy, “In case you get lost :)” Kevin realized he was grinning like an idiot. Jeez, maybe he did like this guy. The idea of it didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would (though that lack of bother maybe did bother him a little).

He pulled out his phone and entered the number into his contacts under the name Connor with, after a moments hesitation, a smiley face. Then he opened up his conversation with Arnold and typed out:

‘Hey Arn, you wanna see a play on Saturday?’

This time he did hit send.

The Thistle Complex was notoriously difficult to navigate, being built specifically to discourage protests during the height of the sexual revolution in the 60’s, but the location Connor had marked off was relatively close to the front door. After a few minutes and a couple of backtracks he was able to find it, and after some quick questions to try and figure out which play exactly it was he was trying to see, the ticket seller handed him three tickets, one for him, one for Arnold, and one for Arnold’s date (Nostradamus in his most recent text). And sure, going to see a play on a Saturday night threw off his schedule just a bit, but he only worked until 2 that day and he could afford to displace a bit of studying to the following day.

He only got home a half hour later than usual, but it still felt odd. Anxiety niggled in the back of his head telling him he had wasted precious time and needed to make up for it somehow, but he was able to ignore it when Arnold immediately ambushed him.

“You saw him again today!” he shrieked, not even bothering to pretend he didn’t know. “That makes three times, dude! Aw man, do you think he’s stalking you? That’d be so creepy.”

“He’s not stalking me,” Kevin said, throwing his bag down and flopping onto the couch. “I went to the drama building, it makes sense he would be there.”

“What’d he say?” Arnold asked, leaping onto the couch next to him, leaning forward on his knees eagerly. It was like having a spiritual manifestation of the stereotypical middle-school girl living in his house with him. “Give me all the details.”

“He literally just told me where to get the tickets,” Kevin told him. “I said, ‘hey, where can I get tickets to this play,’ and he was like, ‘thistle complex,’ and that was it. That’s all that happened.”

Arnold smiled knowingly. “No it’s not, I felt it. You were ecstatic. You went from being all mopey and tired to being, like, a million bucks. This guy is completely messing you up, you’ve got all the symptoms.”

Kevin sighed and took a pause to try and find the exact words to describe how much he didn’t want to be here right now. The worst part was, Arnold knew how much he hated this conversation, he could feel it, but he kept pressing on anyways like the gossipy tween he was deep down inside. No, wait, that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that he could feel Arnold’s excitement and joy, and it was starting to infect him. Either way, he was feeling a very strong urge to slide out of his seat and lie facedown on the floor.

“Connor invited us to a party after the show on Saturday,” Kevin said, ignoring the way Arnold’s eyes lit up. “So you’d better get all of this out of your system now before you meet him.”

“I knew it!” Arnold exclaimed, pumping his fists in the air. “I knew we were going because of him! You never want to see plays, you never want to do anything!”

“Well, I feel like that’s not true.”

“Is he in it? Do we get to see him perform?” he asked, putting a slight embellishment on the final word.

“No, he just knows the people in it. I don’t even know if he’s going to be there since he already saw the show.” It hadn’t really occurred to him before that Connor probably wouldn’t be there, and now that it had he was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake. He didn’t really like plays, he barely liked watching TV, so was there any real point in going if he wasn’t going to see Connor?

No, of course there was, he admonished himself. This wasn’t going to be a situation of only doing things because a boy he liked asked him to, he was going to enjoy the show and have fun and if Connor happened to be there then so be it. All of his past crushes had wound up falling apart because he tried way too hard and wow, he was really just going to admit this was a crush, wasn’t he, just like that. 

“Oh my god, you think way too much,” Arnold groaned, flopping back in his seat. “Don’t you ever just exist and feel stuff and… I dunno, let things happen?”

“Isn’t that what you’re for?”

Arnold shoved Kevin’s arm playfully and Kevin couldn’t help but smile. “Live your life, dude,” he said. “Get over yourself. Not everything is going to come crashing down around you because you let yourself have a good time.”

“I know, Arnold, but I have an anxiety disorder, man, I can’t just turn that off. It’s in my nature to worry about things.”

“Okay, but you like lists, right?” Arnold sat up, eyes eager, and shifted closer to Kevin on the couch, sensing his despondency. “Lists make sense to you, right? We’ll make a list right now, you and me, a list of things you need to do.”

Kevin watched in amused trepidation as Arnold grabbed a notepad from the coffee table that they used for grocery lists and flipped it open, clicking a pen authoritatively. “Number one,” he said, marking a big ‘1’ on the page, “go to the play. Number two: go to the party. Number three: flirt around a bit. I can show you how to do that.”

“You don’t know how to flirt.”

“And which one of us is dating a hot girl?” That was a good point. Kevin gestured for Arnold to continue his list and his soulmate gladly complied. “Number three: flirt a bit,” he repeated. “Number four: kiss the boy.”

“That seems a bit early on the list.”

“I know what I’m doing. Number five-“

“What could possibly be number five? Marriage?” Kevin exclaimed. He did like lists, that was true, they gave him a sense of control, and Kevin was willing to humour him for a short time, but the prospect of actually following through with any of these extremely vague points left him feeling a little disturbed. Actually, if he was being entirely honest, he was feeling a little disturbed by the whole situation.

“Number five,” Arnold said forcibly, looking Kevin in the eye hard. “Ask him out. Numbers four and five are interchangeable. Number six… I dunno, something, we’ll leave that one blank for now. Number seven: become boyfriends.”

“Okay, first of all, I never said I wanted to be his boyfriend,” Kevin interjected. “Second, I feel like going on the actual dates would come between asking him out and becoming his boyfriend. It’s a pretty natural step, I don’t know why you wouldn’t put it down. Third, and probably most importantly: I don’t have time for this!” Kevin stood up, feeling the disappointment that Arnold wasn’t even attempting to hide from his features. Kevin wasn’t sure how often he needed to make this point, but he would do it over and over until his intentions were clear. It was important. He tried to be kind. “I have classes, Arnold, I have homework and goals, I can’t just set those aside for some boy. It’s too big of a distraction right now, and I can’t afford to do this so close to midterms, it’s just not realistic.”

“People have relationships every day!” Arnold argued, “It’s literally just you who thinks it’s a waste of time.”

“That’s entirely untrue,” Kevin told him, “plenty of people don’t want relationships. And I never said it was a waste of time, I just said I don’t have time for it right now.”

“When will you, Kev?” Arnold cried out, suddenly, getting a little more worked up than Kevin felt was absolutely necessary. They were both starting to get a bit irritated and like a feedback loop it could only grow from there. “You never had time in high school, you never have time now, you’re never gonna have time when you’re older because it’s not about time, it’s about you!” Arnold stood up, letting the notepad and pen fall to the floor, waving his hands about as he spoke. “Like, I get that you’re scared and I get that you have anxiety, but you can’t just keep sitting on your feelings and hoping they go away! Nothing’s ever gonna change if you just keep using the same excuses! When it’s not midterms its final exams or this quiz or that essay or work or whatever! You never take even a second to think that maybe there’s more to life than just working hard, trying to be the best!”

“I am the best!” Kevin yelled, startling Arnold into silence. Pure anger flared up in his stomach and bubbling up his throat, forcing the words out of his mouth. “And I’m the best because I work at it! I don’t let myself get distracted and I work hard and I get results! I don’t just sit around all day watching TV and texting girls and flunking out!” He knew he was being unfair. He knew Arnold was feeling hurt and upset by this sudden explosion, but Kevin’s own hurt took priority right now, welling up in his chest and making his head warm, blurring much of his rational thought. Somehow, he needed this. “I shouldn’t even be going to this fucking play, I should be reading and being productive! I should be achieving things and making something of myself!”

“Why are you so scared?”

“I’m not-!” He stopped, suddenly struck by the feeling emanating from his soulmate. Fear and worry and alarm. There was no malice or anger anymore, and for a moment Kevin wondered if there ever had been. He couldn’t recall. It couldn’t have all been his own, it didn’t feel right, it was far too strong and sudden. His breathing was heavy, his hands were shaking slightly, it was possible he was on the verge of a panic attack. He gripped his hands into fists, trying to still them and looked up at Arnold distrustfully. “I’m not scared,” he said at last, a slight tremor in his voice that mystified him. “What are you so worried about anyways? What’s got you so upset? Why do you care so much?”

There was silence for a moment as the two stared each other down, one trembling and the other brimming with concern. “I’m worried about you, Kevin,” Arnold told him, sounding small. “I’m worried if you keep this up you’re gonna break down again.”

Was that why he had been so invested in Kevin’s feelings towards Connor? Because he wanted to make sure he had something else in his life, some kind of balance? Or was it him trying to pass Kevin off to someone else, make him somebody else’s problem for a while?

The breakdown the previous year had been nasty and messy and had landed Kevin in the hospital for weeks. He had been forced to retake his classes with the promise that the fails would not impact his GPA and he was still trying to catch up. There had been breakdowns before and he had been hospitalized for his anxiety when he was much younger, but nothing had compared to his second year of university. No one had really recovered from it, not Kevin or Arnold or Kevin’s family. It was part of the reason he didn’t really have many friends anymore. It definitely wasn’t an experience he was eager to invite back into his life, but he was certain it would never get that bad again. But he had been certain then too.

“That’s not going to happen,” Kevin said, both to reassure Arnold and himself. “I’m not going to let it get that far.”

“Then take some time off, Kevin,” Arnold pleaded. Concern was contorting his features and the threat of tears wavered in his voice. “You don’t need to be doing so much.”

After the breakdown it had been suggested that Kevin drop out of school. His psychiatrist, Dr. Gotswana, had even recommended it, but Kevin had refused, needing to feel some sort of purpose and structure, even though it was killing him. He had come back to school, he had moved back in with Arnold, he had pushed forward like nothing had happened. Therapy had lasted six months before he opted out of that too, insisting he was fine and didn’t need it anymore, and even though no one believed him they all let it happen. Kevin’s family had made a business for themselves of pretending everything was fine. They couldn’t have their most promising son looking like he was falling apart, so they insisted he was fine as well, and everything went on as usual.

Except for Arnold.

For the first month back the worry had been unbearable. No matter what face he put on, no matter what he said or where they were, Arnold’s worry permeated every thought and feeling he had and Kevin couldn’t stand it. Eventually it faded, but every now and then, any time Kevin got a bit upset or he had a panic attack or he holed himself up in his room for days to finish something for school, he could feel that weight of concern pressing at the base of his skull. Right now, for example, it was bleeding out of Arnold and right into Kevin.

Kevin sighed, his forehead creasing, and sat back down, lifting his arm as an invitation that Arnold took without a moments hesitation, settling into Kevin’s embrace silently. “I’m sorry,” Kevin said quietly, feeling his heartbeat calm down gradually as they sat there. He placed his hand on Arnold’s forehead and placed his own cheek on top of his dark curls, letting the swirling blue glow calm him further. “I’m sorry,” he said again, apologizing for the brief fight, for all the worry over the past year, for everything that had happened. “I’ll try. But you’ve gotta let this Connor thing go,” he continued. “Either something will happen or it won’t, but you can’t keep pushing me into something I don’t want because you think it might help.”

“You scared me last night,” Arnold said quietly.

“I know, I was scared too, it was scary.” He sighed and glanced over to the wall clock, wondering if this was cutting into their movie time. 5:47. They were cutting it close. “You want fried rice for dinner?”

Arnold nodded silently. Kevin patted his arm a couple of times before standing up and making his way to their tiny kitchen. “Find something good on TV.”

That night, after dinner, after essays, after brushing his teeth, Kevin lay awake in bed wondering if Arnold was right. What if he was heading down that same path again? He honestly hadn’t meant to blow up at him like that, it had surprised him just as much as it had Arnold and he knew irritability was a sign things were getting bad. The dream he had had last night couldn’t mean anything good either.

Rolling onto his back, he sighed up at the ceiling. But what could he do about it? Valedictorian was a real goal he had, it wasn’t just something he said, it was something he really wanted. Proof, he supposed, that he was the best. Conclusive evidence that he was above and beyond his peers. He wanted it so badly. With the setback last year, achieving that goal had become a shaky prospect. Graduating at all was a question, let alone graduating top of the class. But he had worked his way back up, working his ass off to get back to where he had been before the stress and anxiety and pressure had finally cracked him. Was this all just a repeat?

Arnold’s heart was in the right place, it was never anywhere else, but he was going about it all the wrong way. A relationship wasn’t going to magically fix all the problems in Kevin’s life, it would just be another pressure to be perfect at something. Right? Kevin had never been in a relationship, so he couldn’t really know, but he was pretty sure.

Connor was odd, though. Every interaction they had had so far made him immediately happy, his presence was calming and exciting all at once. Maybe it had just been a fluke or maybe it really had been a while since he had last had a crush and he had forgotten what it felt like, but his instincts told him that wasn’t quite right. Something here was different. Not quite normal.

‘You’re overthinking it again,’ he told himself, ‘it’s not that complicated.’

He rolled his head to the side, eyes landing on his phone on the table next to him. ‘Live your life,’ Arnold had told him. A dumb motivational poster-type slogan, but there was certainly something to it.

He considered it for a moment longer, weighing the options in his head before finally giving in and grabbing his phone. The light was much too bright in the darkness of his room, but Kevin squinted against it and searched through his contacts until he found Connor and typed out a message.

‘Hey, it’s Kevin’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really happy with this chapter, but it'll do. School is finally done so I'll hopefully have more time to write and finally get into the meat of things here, and it's not much longer now.
> 
> The school they go to isn't based on any one particular school, especially not one in Utah, but the descriptions are based on real places. The drama building, for example, is based on the drama building at Queen's University, the stuff with Thistle Complex based on a building or two at my own school. Why be factually accurate when you can make up your own campus?
> 
> -G


	4. Kevin Price Goes to the Theatre

‘Looking forward to seeing you tonight! :)’

The text set Kevin’s heart to a trot, excited and nervous all at once. It had come at lunchtime, read while biting into a peanut butter banana sandwich, and he found himself sitting there for a long moment grinning at the screen of his phone. He was still smiling as he finished his food and retied his apron, and must have still been smiling as he worked.

After helping a young couple with a ficus and ringing it up with a beautiful marbled pot, Grant said, “What’s got into you?”

Kevin looked up at him as he stashed away the receipt. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re all smiley and happy all of a sudden. What, you got a date tonight?”

The thing about good news is that it often feels impossible not to share. Kevin rarely had good news. He rarely had any news at all. But now he found himself giddy at the prospect of seeing Connor and it felt like a shame to keep that giddiness all to himself.

“I’ve been texting someone for the past week and I get to see them tonight,” he said through a smile.

Grant’s eyes lit up with low-energy interest and he leaned forward on the counter. “Ooh, and what’s the lucky girl’s name, then?”

And there was the problem.

Kevin wasn’t out, not to anybody. Other than Arnold of course, and his ex-therapist, but they were different, obviously. Growing up in a strictly Mormon household, interacting primarily with other Mormon families, coming out to anyone would have been not only hard, but dangerous. He didn’t have a solid idea of how his parents would feel about it, they’d never brought it up and he sure as hell wasn’t going to, but he’d heard the sermons, he’d read the literature, he knew that being gay and a Mormon wasn’t a safe combination.

Growing up had been difficult, not getting the same crushes as other boys his age, pretending to because it was what he was supposed to be doing, spreading rumours about himself liking Olivia or Vicky to make sure people knew he was straight. It took years of doing it automatically to realize that there was something going on. His first crush on a boy had been at the age of 11, but he didn’t recognize the feelings and didn’t understand them until he was 15. At that point he buried himself in the Church and his schoolwork and family, trying to make it go away, but it didn’t. He didn’t come to terms with it until a few years ago on his Mission. But then, on his Mission there were more important things to be thinking about.

Now here he was, in his early 20’s, still pretending, too scared that if he told anyone at all it would make its way back to his family or to the Church and he would get in trouble. He knew it was a little ridiculous at this point, but his instincts told him not to let on to anyone, just in case. The fear instilled in him from the moment he first stepped foot in a church, the moment he first heard a sermon on the dangers of homosexuality, it stayed with him always.

It was that fear that made him, after only a second of hesitation, say, “Connie.”

“I didn’t know people our age were named Connie,” Grant replied dryly. “Is she cute?”

“Very.”

Kevin tried to make the conversation last as little time as possible, the joy of seeing Connor that night, of having plans to specifically see Connor rather than just happening upon him, was undercut sharply by the discomfort in his gut. Soon enough, his shift was over and he left Grant with the shop alone and made his way home, feeling anxious.

“Hey, best friend, no need to be nervous,” Arnold said when Kevin came through the door.

He dropped his bag and knelt down to untie his shoes. “I don’t know why I am,” Kevin said through a nervous smile, “I guess I’m just a bit excited.”

“Do you like the theatre?” came a voice he didn’t recognize and Kevin looked up sharply to find a young woman smiling brightly at him from the couch. She was very pretty and had big hair and looked the picture of innocence. This must be Arnold’s mysterious new girlfriend, he realized.

“Oh, hi,” he managed to say, giving her a friendly smile from where he still knelt on the floor. “You must be…”

“Nabulungi,” she replied. Ah, so that was her name. Kevin cast a glance up to Arnold, but didn’t see any look on his face that would indicate he was making use of the information.

“Nice to meet you, Nabulungi,” Kevin said as he stood. “Arnold’s told me a lot about you.”

“And the same of you,” she told him chipperly. “Arnold is very fond of his soulmate.”

Arnold and Kevin exchanged a smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Arnold blossomed with fondness before turning to Nabulungi and filling with a different kind of affection. “Kevin’s nervous because he’s meeting a boy after the play,” he told her much to Kevin’s alarm. Nabulungi, for her part, appeared thrilled.

“Oh, is this the boy with the flowers?” she asked.

Kevin turned an accusatory expression to Arnold and said, “You told her about that?”

Arnold only shrugged.

“Arnold told me he is very cute,” Nabulungi put in. “He also told me you do not do well with people.”

Kevin raised his eyebrows at that and looked to Arnold with his lips pursed. Arnold shrugged again, no hint of remorse in his face or mind, smiling innocently. Seeing there was no point in getting worked up over any of it, Kevin rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Well, I’m going to go have a shower and get dressed. You two try not to talk about my social life too much, or you’ll have nothing to talk about during the show.”

The couple exchanged a giggle and Kevin left them to it. Once in the shower he bounced back and forth between nurturing his excitement and trying to come up with things to say once he was with Connor. Conversation was a big challenge, especially when the stakes were high like this. He wanted to make a good impression, but also didn’t want to seem like he was trying too hard, make it feel natural without leaving anything to chance. It was a tall order and he wound up so lost in thought about it that it took Arnold knocking on the bathroom door for him to realize he had been in the shower for nearly 45 minutes.

Getting dressed, he reviewed the possible candidates for conversation openers, deciding that “do you have any pets” felt too forced, but “how did you get into theatre” was just the right amount of inquisitive and related to the event. From his brief interactions with Connor up to that point, and the small amount of texting they had kept up, it seemed that any question would be enough to get him running.

It was only 3:20 and the show started at 7, but he would want to get there for 6:30, which meant leaving at 6, so dinner at 5 if he wanted time to brush his teeth and leave space for last minute adjustments to his appearance, which only really gave him less than 2 hours to get his outfit together, make sure they all had their tickets, scrub the last of the soil out of his fingernails, and do a couple of last minute weather and transit checks to make sure they would get there on time, so really there was no time at all.

It was hard to know how to dress, too, as he hadn’t been to a play in years and he’d never been to one at the school. He thought about texting to ask, but didn’t want to come off as needy or nervous, even thought that was exactly what he was, so he figured a collared shirt and some nice pants was safe enough. Connor always dressed well, so at least he knew he would be in good company and wouldn’t look too out of place if he was a little overdressed.

“I can feel you thinking in there! Stop it!” Arnold yelled through the wall while Kevin looked through his closet for just the right shirt.

“I’m just getting dressed,” Kevin called back, pulling out a grey denim shirt with a bit of a texture to it. Looked nice enough. He pulled it on over his temple garments and then paused, uncertain whether or not he should tuck it in. “Hey, Arnold, should I tuck in my shirt?”

“It literally does not matter,” Arnold replied.

Kevin tended to disagree, but he didn’t say anything, preferring not to start up this old argument again. Looking at himself uncertainly in the mirror, he tucked in his shirt.

“So what’s this play about, anyways?” Arnold asked once Kevin had emerged from his room.

“I dunno, I never checked,” he said, hurrying over to the kitchen.

“Do you want me to?”

“Sure, knock yourself out.”

From the kitchen where he looked around for whatever he could cook in just the right amount of time, Kevin could hear Arnold and Nabulungi whispering and giggling to one another in the living room. And it wasn’t that he was jealous, far from it, he was delighted that Arnold had found someone who made him happy, but he was a little envious. It wasn’t often Kevin felt he had a chance at a relationship like that, rather, he often felt like his future was a lonely one filled with work and diligence and very little company. Seeing that text that afternoon, however, had given him a little injection of hope. It was far too soon to tell, of course, they were only texting, but there was little else he could do but hope, no matter what his logical brain had to say on the matter.

Eventually, he pulled down a box of Hamburger Helper from the cupboard and went to the doorway to look out at his friend. “So, what’s the word?” he asked.

“I’ve got no clue, dude, this play seems really weird,” Arnold said, gesturing to the computer on his lap. “Something about a city being built and some guys from Alaska, it’s really hard to follow.”

“It’s Brecht,” Nabulungi told them, as though the name should mean something. It certainly sounded familiar to Kevin, like it was probably somebody he had heard mentioned in one of his classes, but he couldn’t really recall. When she saw the looks of confusion on their faces, Nabulungi smiled kindly and said, “He makes weird theatre. I saw one of his plays when I was a child and I couldn’t understand it at all. He is very strange.”

“I didn’t know you liked theatre,” Arnold said.

“My mother did,” she replied.

The pair had situated themselves on the couch, Nabulungi with her legs tucked up under her and leaning against Arnold’s arm to get a look at the computer screen. They looked comfortable and intimate and Kevin felt that same familiar stab of longing.

‘Nonsense,’ he told himself. ‘You don’t need it; it’s just a distraction. The whole Connor thing is an experiment. Get a hold of yourself.’ Arnold looked up at him curiously, obviously feeling the longing and the dismissal Kevin was struggling with, but Kevin just smiled at him and once again pretended everything was okay.

“Want some?” he asked, holding up the box.

Arnold glanced at the box and then up at the wall clock near the door. “It’s a bit early for dinner, Kev,” he answered.

“We don’t want to be late for the show, we’ve only got a couple hours.” Arnold raised an eyebrow and Kevin could see he wasn’t going to get anywhere with this. “Nabulungi, how about you?”

She shook her head. “No thank you, Kevin. I am a vegetarian.”

Kevin looked between them uncertainly, a bit concerned they weren’t moving quickly enough. At this rate, Arnold would want to eat far too close to when they had to leave and Kevin would be stuck pushing them out the door at the last second. But perhaps, he reasoned, the smell of food would bring him around. “Suit yourselves,” Kevin said and returned to the kitchen.

As he suspected, they wound up pressed for time and very nearly missed the bus. Kevin found himself in the usual position of supervisor to his soulmate, making sure he had all his things, he had eaten, he had gone to the bathroom, the whole shebang, and Arnold was in the usual position of telling him to take it easy and calm down a bit. Nabulungi observed it all in amused fascination. Kevin had to admit, their relationship was probably pretty odd from an outside perspective, but it worked and by 6:32 they were in the lobby of the old drama building where a crowd had begun to gather.

The play was called The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny, a show Kevin had never heard of before. If what Arnold had read was correct, they were in for an interesting time.

As the room filled up slowly and people milled about, waiting for the doors to open, Kevin scanned the faces for anyone familiar. Logically, Connor wouldn’t be there, he had already seen the show, it wouldn’t make sense for him to show up again, but still, it would be nice. Arnold made an aside comment to Kevin that if Connor did show up, he and Nefertiti could sit a few rows back, give the pair some “privacy” and Kevin smacked him gently on the arm and told him to get lost.

The doors opened and Connor was nowhere in sight.

The three friends took their seats and opened their programs, glancing through at unfamiliar names and faces, making comments to one another about how pretty this person was and how awful that name was, and they let themselves become absorbed into the atmosphere of the mumbling audience around them. Onstage was a tall chair and not much else and Nabulungi told them that it was typical for Brecht to which Arnold and Kevin nodded and wondered aloud why the chair would be onstage at all when the show had yet to start.

A few minutes to 7 the crowd was as restless as ever and Kevin was beginning to grow a little impatient. Having been to very few, if any, plays in his life, he wondered what the holdup was. The theatre was practically full, why couldn’t they just start?

His phone buzzed in his pocket and when he opened the message he was surprised to find Connor had sent him a picture of the back of Kevin’s head. Quickly, Kevin turned around, expecting to see Connor near the top of the seating risers, but instead he was greeted by a sea of unfamiliar people.

‘Where are you?’ he texted back.

Almost immediately, he received another photo. This time it was the back of many heads, including his own, and the open stage beyond them, displayed on a poor quality television set. Another message popped up.

‘I’m in the green room,’ it said. ‘Look Kevin, you’re on TV!’

Kevin turned around again, looking for a camera, but couldn’t find one for the life of him. Another photo arrived, this one was much the same as the last, but with Kevin’s confused face turned towards the camera looking distorted and goofy with several laughing emoji faces following quickly after.

‘Where’s the camera?’ he asked, feeling made fun of and very much as confused as he looked in the picture.

‘On the catwalk. It’s just so we can see what’s going on from backstage. I’ve got a great view of you from down here.’

‘Seems a little unfair.’

The next picture was a selfie of Connor making faces with a couple of actors in outrageous makeup and Kevin had to stifle a laugh causing Arnold to look over at him from his conversation with Nabulungi with a smirk.

‘I’ve shown you mine, now you show me yours ;)’ Connor’s message read.

Kevin smiled in disbelief and typed out, ‘I think you’ve already shown us mine.’

As he sent it the lights grew dim. A final message from Connor arrived. ‘Turn off your phone, Tommy Texter.’ Kevin scoffed, but did as he was told and pocketed the device just as the theatre faded to black, using the dying light to make a face behind him, hoping Connor could see it. Knowing Connor was there was enough to set his mind a little at ease and he settled in to watch the show.

Arnold and Nabulungi turned out to be right. The show was long and strange and if there was a plot, Kevin was hard-pressed to find it. He watched in endless fascination as the characters strode around singing and spewing non-sequiturs, perking up a little when he recognized the two actors from Connor’s selfie. The whole cast turned out to be fantastically good, as far as Kevin could tell, though not all of them were strong singers. By the time intermission rolled around, the trio were jumping at the chance to turn to each other and ask what the hell was going on.

“That one dude’s so weird!” Arnold exclaimed and Kevin shushed him a bit. In a quieter voice he hissed out, “Like he keeps showing up and he’s got that romantic thing going with the prostitute, but does he have a plotline? Is he the main character?”

“I think it is the woman,” Nabulungi said, “the one who build the city. She might be the villain, though, I cannot tell.”

“No, I think that guy Jimmy’s gonna turn out to be the villain,” Kevin argued. “The romance is just to throw us off, he’s got that creepy vibe to him.”

They carried on like this through until the lights dimmed once more and they were thrust back into the show, now in a seemingly spontaneous new plot that had nothing to do with anything they had already seen. Kevin tried to get lost in the story, but he couldn’t really tell what the story was supposed to be or who he was supposed to be rooting for, and after another 20 minutes he found himself just sitting there letting the peculiar experience wash over him with little thought as to how any of it connected. In this state, he found it much more enjoyable.

By the end of the show he was ready for it to be done, there was only so long he could shut down his brain. The cast gave their final bows and the audience gave them their ovation and the house lights came up and it was suddenly over. Overall, it had been like a fever dream, but one shared between over a hundred people, and he listened to strangers talk excitedly about the symbolism and intricate meanings without understanding a word of it.

“I liked that wolf guy,” Arnold was saying as they left the theatre, Kevin on one side and Nabulungi on the other. “He was all ‘pow pow!’” He punched the air, startling a middle-aged woman as they passed. “Nobody messes with Wolfy.”

“Alaska Wolf Joe, yes, his fight was very curious,” Nabulungi agreed. “The way they staged it was excellent. I enjoyed his friend Bill, his character was interesting as well. The trial was suspenseful.”

Kevin was half listening, his attention fixed on the phone in his hand that was still waking up. Had Connor tried to text him during intermission? He had forgotten to turn it on to check, too involved in his conversation with his friends at that time.

“Hey Kevin, what did you think?”

Kevin looked up sharply to Arnold who was smiling expectantly at him. “Oh, uh…” He searched for words that wouldn’t inspire too much dialog, much more intent on finding Connor in the crowd. “It was good,” he settled on. “Yeah, I didn’t get much of it, but I liked it.”

The phone buzzed in his hand and his attention shot straight back down to it.

‘I’ve got to help some of the actors out of costume, but I’ll be up in a few. Don’t go anywhere!’

“Connor’s gonna meet us in the lobby,” Kevin told Arnold, but his soulmate had turned back to his girlfriend and wasn’t paying him any mind.

The three of them parked themselves near the impressive staircase on which Kevin had seen Connor at their most recent encounter and while Arnold and Nabulungi conversed animatedly about theatre, Kevin studied the crowd, waiting for a familiar face. He had never been this excited about a person before and it was a little frightening to him. Every few minutes he reminded himself to relax, concerned by how much he wanted to see Connor and concerned by how nervous the prospect of seeing him was making Kevin, which was a ridiculous contradiction and he knew it.

As time wore on, he grew antsy. Maybe Connor had changed his mind. Maybe he had decided that Kevin Price wasn’t worth his time after all. Which was ridiculous, by the way, Kevin was well worth everyone’s time. But even so.

Actors began to emerge from the open doorway to their right, bursting forward to excitedly reunite with their friends and family, receiving flowers and hugs and congratulations. Kevin eyed the doorway, willing Connor to be the next person to arrive, and eventually his will was realized and there was Connor looking vibrant and excitable. It took him a moment to spot Kevin, but once he did his smile grew and he raised a hand.

“Kevin! Hi! I’m so glad you made it!” He wasn’t wearing his usual clean-cut, multi-layered outfit, but rather was sporting a nice pair of jeans and a navy blue t-shirt with a thick stripe of floral across the chest. It looked good on him, but was perhaps more casual than Kevin had expected.

Regardless, Kevin smiled back, feeling relieved, and said, “Couldn’t miss out on something that came so highly recommended.”

The exchange and possibly Kevin’s change in attitude invited Arnold’s attention. “Is this the guy?” he asked, positively beaming.

A little embarrassed at Arnold’s lack of tact, Kevin responded with, “Arnold, this is Connor. Connor, this is my soulmate Arnold.” The two of them shook hands. “And this is Arnold’s date, Nabulungi.” Connor looked momentarily perplexed, but he nodded to her and she answered with a smile.

“Nice to meet you both,” Connor said. “Did you all like the show?”

Arnold and Nabulungi responded enthusiastically and Kevin managed to fake it easily. It had been a good show, but he had never been a fan of the type of storytelling they had just seen. He liked linear and straightforward, and this had been neither.

“What were you doing?” Kevin asked. “What’s the green room?”

“It sounds like some sort of evil lair,” Arnold said, mystified.

Connor let out a delighted laugh and Kevin’s chest got a little warm. “I guess it kind of is like an evil lair,” he said with a grin.

“But theatre students aren’t exactly evil,” Kevin said.

“Believe me,” Connor told him wryly, “no one knows how evil actors are more than actors. And to answer your question, I was helping out with costumes. I work in the costume shop sometimes, I’m a costume assistant.”

“The library and the costume shop?”

“Man’s gotta make a living,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, costumes are way more fun than books.”

“I would argue.”

“You would.”

Kevin was well-aware that he was smiling like an idiot. He was also aware Connor’s smile was big enough to rival his own. He was extremely aware that Arnold and Nabulungi were both standing immediately next to them and he would need to watch himself.

“It’s too bad you couldn’t come sit with us, you might have answered some questions,” he said.

“Well, I’m here now,” Connor said, putting on a serious expression. “Ask away.”

“What happened to Alaska Wolf Joe?” Arnold cried out as though he had been dying to know since the moment the character had left the stage.

Connor looked a little surprised. “He died.”

“No!”

“I knew it,” Nabulungi said with a knowing nod. “I told you that is what happened.”

“But he was such a good fighter!” Arnold exclaimed, more animated than any of the performers had been that night. “He was so cool! He was named after a wolf! That other guy didn’t stand a chance, he was so scrawny!”

“Arnold, they talked about him dying,” Kevin said. “They literally discussed his death. It was in the script.”

“But it was so unclear,” Arnold wailed into his hand.

Connor was watching the display in amused silence, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Do you want to go talk to the actor?” he asked. “Mark would be thrilled to know he’s made a fan, though lord knows the rest of the cast will never forgive me for it.”

“We would love to,” Nabulungi answered for him, features brightening. “I would like to congratulate the cast, especially the girl who played Jenny. Her voice was beautiful.”

“Oh, Kaitlyn, yeah, she’s fantastic! I think I saw her headed that way. I’ll introduce you!” Kevin must not have been wearing his best fake smile because Connor kindly told him, “Why don’t you wait here, Kev, and I’ll be back in a second,” before leading Arnold and his date into the crowd, distributing congratulatory hugs as he went.

Looking around, Kevin caught sight of a vending machine opposite him, and he carefully pushed his way through the thrall to buy himself a water bottle. The packed theatre had been cool from the audience, but stuffy, and the air a little stale. On his way back he met one of the cast members – an unmemorable girl who he thought may have been in the chorus, but he couldn’t be sure – and told her she had done a spectacular job, before politely sneaking his way past bodies back to the wall he had been occupying.

Leaning against the wall he tried to calm his excitement. Connor was a downright social butterfly, Kevin couldn’t hope to compete. He had his prepared questions, though, an entire play to talk about, and plenty of opportunity to divert the conversation if need be. He may not have been good with people, but Kevin was damn good at faking it.

“So, what’d you really think of the show?” Connor asked as he approached, nearly causing Kevin to choke on his water.

He glanced up at him and laughed lightly. “Honestly? I had no idea what was going on the entire time.”

“Right?” Connor whispered, eyebrows shooting up as he came in close so as to prevent any nearby thespians from overhearing. The answer surprised Kevin and he leaned in as well. “I saw that show twice and I think it made even less sense the second time! Like, I can follow the individual storylines, but jeez! If there was a moral, I sure missed it.”

“I thought you said it was an amazing show.”

“It was amazing. Don’t get me wrong, the actors were phenomenal and the production value was great, but anything Brecht writes just goes in one ear and out the other for me.”

“So why did you tell me I should come see it?” Kevin hissed.

“Because I was flirting with you, Kevin! I didn’t expect you to actually buy a ticket!”

Kevin gave Connor a look of pure disbelief, which was returned by a look of incredulous amazement. “You couldn’t have told me in the week that we were texting? You couldn’t have just said, ‘Oh yeah, by the way, the show makes no sense, don’t come’?”

Connor shrugged. “I needed someone to bond with over it.”

“And you couldn’t get Chris to suffer through it?”

“Oh, you didn’t suffer,” Connor said with a smirk. “Even if you didn’t get it, you still enjoyed it at parts, I can tell.”

“Could see it in the back of my head, could you?”

“Goodness, you’re bitter,” Connor said, “maybe you shouldn’t have come.”

Warmth was spreading through Kevin’s veins and he was worried he may be falling in love. Or maybe this was just what it felt like to have a friend at long last. Either way he hoped it would never end.

“You’re glad I came, though,” he said knowingly.

“Of course I’m glad you came,” Connor replied, and there was a tenderness to the words that just about made Kevin melt. “I’m honoured you decided to grace us with your presence.”

“As you should be.”

“Arnold was telling me you don’t get out much,” Connor continued to Kevin’s chagrin. He would need to have a word with Arnold later. “I must be a very important person to have coaxed you out of your ivory tower.”

“Actually it’s marble. Ivory is so last century.”

This was turning out to be easier than Kevin had thought. That innate calmness that Connor brought to him was working its magic and for once in his life he found himself relaxing into a conversation. Possibly even bantering. He never really considered himself a person who bantered.

“So, what’s this party we’re going to?” he asked as Connor leaned against the wall next to him, surveying their surroundings.

“It’s at my friend Eric’s house, the guy who played Jacob. It’s a nice place, there’s a pool in the back. Prepare yourself, though, it’s in the suburbs.”

“I’ll try to stomach it if I can.”

“I think most people are gonna hang around here for a bit just to catch up, but we can get going if you want.”

Kevin looked to Connor earnestly, trying to figure out what he wanted just by reading his features. “We can stick around for a while if you want. I don’t want to drag you away from your friends.”

“No, it’s cool,” Connor said with a shake of his head. “I’ll see most of them at the party anyways and it’s not fair of me to keep you around here when you don’t know anyone. Besides,” he said, smiling over at Kevin, “I know Eric’s roommate, he’s a pretty cool guy. He won’t mind us showing up a bit early.”

Having been to very few parties in his life, and certainly none at a college level, Kevin could not rightly say how early was too early to show up to a party. Truly, he was putting his social life into Connor’s hands, but he trusted him well enough.

The great stained glass window of the theatre hall watched over them benevolently as Connor and Kevin peeled themselves away from the wall in order to go collect their friends. As they pushed against the tide of people, Kevin fought the urge to grab at Connor’s hand to keep from losing him. Perhaps it was a normal thing to feel and want, and perhaps to follow through would have been okay, but Kevin resisted, and their hands were still parted when they managed to find the chipper couple right where Connor had left them.

They wound up staying for another ten minutes as they found themselves wrapped up in a conversation with a few of the actors who Arnold and Nabulungi seemed to have grown quite close to in the few minutes they had been gone. It was interesting conversation, and exciting to Kevin who didn’t often get to experience such boisterous spirits or such easy conversation. His heart almost ached when they finally said their goodbyes and parted ways.

It was raining outside when they left through the great wooden doors (doors that reminded Kevin far too much of church doors) and the steps were damp and the sun was gone, replaced with a moon that was obscured by dark clouds. In spite of the weather their spirits were high and it was as though they expected to be that way for a very long time.


	5. Kevin Price Goes to a Party

The house that they went to was surprisingly deep in the suburbs, buried somewhere in a meandering cul-de-sac that, at the point of their arrival, was heavy with anticipation. It was all Kevin could hope that the neighbours weren’t in.

The bus they took only went so far and they were forced to walk for 5 or 10 minutes through the fine mist of rain that clouded the air around them. Kevin spent most of the time trying desperately to think of something to say while Connor chatted happily with Arnold and Nabulungi and when the four of them arrived at the end of the curving street Connor pointed out the house they were headed to.

Much of the cast was still back on campus conversing with friends and family about the show, but Connor assured them that the hosts were ready. It was hard to tell. From the street the house looked peaceful and pleasant, the windows warmly lit from behind thick curtains, and there was no hint of the bass-heavy music that Kevin had been expecting.

Connor brought them right up onto the porch and the door was answered by a young man with a goofy grin who greeted Connor with a high five and a hug. Introductions were made and the group was invited into the house.

Party prep had obviously taken place: bowls of chips lain out in various locations, the kitchen table repurposed for beer pong at a moments notice, a stereo system hooked up in the living room that was playing something Kevin didn’t recognize, rules for drinking games taped up on the walls written in thick marker.

“How many people are coming?” Kevin asked Connor quietly. He had expected the 15 or so members of the class as well as their partners and possibly even soulmates, but the house seemed prepared for a small army.

“Who knows,” said the host, Ghali, patting Kevin on the shoulder. “There’s a few people here already, but everyone always brings a few friends. It gets pretty wild.”

Kevin cast Arnold a nervous look. The relationship between the amount of people and the amount it felt like was a fantastic example of exponential growth. If there were 20 it would feel like 30, 30 would feel like 50, and so on and so on, and no matter the number Kevin was getting anxious.

“Can I get you guys anything to drink?” Ghali asked, already moving in the direction of the kitchen.

Connor and Nabulungi answered yes. Ghali turned his attention to Arnold and Kevin.

“Oh, no,” Arnold said with a smile and a wave of his hand. “We don’t drink.

Ghali shrugged. “Suit yourself. Let me know if you want anything. There’s water in the sink.” Kevin looked to Connor who was smiling broadly, probably excited for the night to begin, and as though he could feel Kevin looking, he returned the gaze, steady and reassuring, and some of Kevin’s concerns rescinded. “Is Poptarts coming?” Ghali asked when he returned with a couple of open beers.

“Yeah, he’s got a late class, but he’ll be here later,” Connor said, taking one of the drinks. Nabulungi accepted hers as well and took a sip.

“Who’s Poptarts?” Arnold asked, watching his girlfriend with an expression that didn’t convey the slight discomfort he was feeling.

“Oh! Sorry,” Connor laughed. “Chris. A lot of the guys call him Poptarts because he took a baking class last semester and every time he had to make a big batch of something as an assignment he’d let the theatre kids have them. Made him very popular very fast. Sometimes I think they like him more than they like me.” He laughed again and the tension in Kevin’s chest lessened. He even managed a smile. “He, um, Chris really likes Pop Tarts,” Connor continued, glowing with the fondness of one talking about someone they love. “Like, he really likes them. He learned how to make a sort of… refined version, like a really nice pastry filled with whatever, and there was an entire month where he made nothing else, it was insane. Up to our eyes in Pop Tarts. I had to bring them to class daily to try and get rid of them, sneak them out because Chris refused to admit he couldn’t eat them all by himself, but by the end of week two people stopped taking them.”

“They were delicious!” Ghali exclaimed. “But you can only eat so many Pop Tarts before the sight of them makes you ill.”

“Ugh, you’re telling me.”

“What made him stop?” Kevin asked.

“Me.” Connor was only able to hold his deadly serious expression for a moment before he burst out laughing. Ghali chuckled as well and the rest of them smiled, Arnold momentarily distracted from his girlfriend’s beverage choice.

In the several minutes that followed, the rest of the cast and crew began to arrive with their friends, showing up in large groups and already grinning wickedly, drinks in hand. Connor appeared to know all of them, which was an odd concept for Kevin who spent most of his time in lectures with total strangers and a few people he was only barely aware of as individuals. Kevin, Arnold and Nabulungi were introduced to all of them, the names piling up until they all toppled down and he couldn’t remember a single one.

As the house filled, the carefully lain out rooms fell to the hands and bodies of theatre students, some of whom had apparently been pre-drinking, though God knows when they had managed that. The more people showed up, the more Connor’s attention seemed to become divided, evidently an even bigger extrovert than Arnold had predicted, but he always found his way back to Kevin.

“Almost lost you, there,” he would say, beaming at Kevin, who was starting to get into the groove of things.

Arnold had managed to find a Coke in the back of the fridge and Kevin helped himself to a cup of water. They mostly hung around each other and Connor, when he wasn’t busy with someone else, and even though the music was a bit too loud and there were a few too many people, Kevin realized he was enjoying himself. 

Nabulungi had realized that she actually knew a few of the party guests, a couple of boys who worked at her father’s restaurant and some friends of friends with whom she was quickly becoming friends. They pulled Arnold, and by extension, Kevin, into a conversation about self-driving cars.

“How are they supposed to recognize a person?” a girl, Kimbay, decreed. “How is a camera supposed to identify what a person is? Especially in the dark.”

“It’s about sensors, not cameras!” argued Michael, a busboy from the restaurant. “They can sense there’s something there and know not to hit it. Cameras play a role too, but it’s all about the sensors.”

“But what if the car had to choose?” Nabulungi put in, on her second beer and getting livelier by the minute. “Say a car is stopped at a red light and a person crosses the street, but then, a second car that’s not self-driving comes up behind it and isn’t going to stop? Does the car move and hit the person? Or does it stay and let itself get hit with a person inside it?”

“You’re forgetting the person inside the second car too,” Kevin said. He wouldn’t say he was relaxed, but he was glad to have found a group he could stick with. Connor had wandered off again, but this time he had people to fall back on. “It’s not just a question of self-preservation anymore. If you have the second car, it’s now an issue of morality. It’s the Trolley Problem.”

“The Trolley Problem,” Arnold agreed, though Kevin knew for a fact he didn’t know what the Trolley Problem was.

“Hold on, what’s a Trolley Problem?” Michael asked.

“A trolley is rolling down a hill on a set of tracks that splits in two directions partway down,” Kimbay explained. “On one side is a single person attached to the tracks and on the other is a group of people. You can flip the switch to make the Trolley go either way, but you have to pick one.”

“You either kill one person, or a bunch,” Kevin said. “But you have to choose.”

Michael looked horrified. “That’s terrible! I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“You have to,” Kevin insisted. “You’ve gotta pick, that’s the whole point. That’s why it matters if somebody is in the second car because if they hit your car both of you will get hurt, not just the pedestrian.”

“Who’s hurting pedestrians?” asked Connor.

Kevin turned to find him approaching the group and couldn’t help but smile.

“Connor!” called out a boy, Pete, who had been listening to the conversation, but refusing to take part on the grounds that it’s philosophically impossible for a car to be morally evil. “Connor, what do you think: are self-driving cars a nuisance to society?”

“Do we have those now?” he asked as he came even with Kevin.

A victorious cry rang out from the beer pong table and several high fives were distributed.

“No, it’s a hypothetical,” Michael said after the noise had died down, prompting Kimbay to mutter that she was pretty sure self-driving cars already existed.

Connor squinted and blew out between his lips. He smelled of alcohol and Kevin wasn’t certain how many drinks he had had because the bottle he was carrying now was certainly a different brand than the one he had left with. He didn’t seem drunk, but he was definitely looking loose and a little foggy. “I don’t actually think I have an opinion on self-driving cars.”

“But would a car choose to save the driver or a pedestrian?” Nabulungi insisted. “If a self-driving car is parked at a streetlight-“

“That’s the perfect example of sensors versus cameras!” Michael butted in, spilling some of his cup in his excitement. “The sensors pick up the pedestrian, but the cameras pick up the second car! It’s like one of those speed cameras that can detect how fast something is coming right at you, so, like, the extra distance gives the car time to get out of the way safely!”

“But how does it know it wouldn’t stop!”

The argument picked up again, more heated this time than it had been previously, and louder as well. Kevin decided he would rather be looking at Connor and got in a few seconds of admiring his lightly freckled face before realizing he was in full view of a party and diverting his gaze to Arnold instead. His soulmate was looking a little uncertain, invested in the conversation, but not quite fast enough to join in. Kevin pulled at the emotions to make sure he was okay, but found there was something a little off. It was as though something had dulled his senses in that respect. It was probably just the result of anxiety, not the first time he had lost some connection due to nerves or his medication, and he wrote it off easily.

Arnold met his gaze and smiled at Kevin, and the look put him more at ease. He was quickly shocked out of it by the feeling of a hand at the small of his back.

“You doing okay?” Connor asked him. It was his hand. Connor’s hand was on Kevin’s back. Kevin couldn’t make his voice work, but he managed to smile and nod. “You want some chips or something? More water?”

“No,” he replied once the shock had subsided. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

They had to lean in close to make themselves be heard above the clamour around them, and when Connor pulled away, his hand dropping to his own pocket, Kevin’s mind was buzzing. He wanted to be close again. Closer than that, even. He wanted a lot of things from Connor and in spite of the smell of alcohol on his breath, Connor was a more insistent pull than ever.

Another cry went up in the room behind them. There was a yell of, “Poptarts!” and Connor’s head whipped around, a smile exploding onto his face. The name had been met with a smattering of cheers from around the room, but they didn’t see the small man for whom they were meant for several seconds. Then there he was, pushing his way through the crowd, solo cup already in hand, brightening the instant he saw Connor.

“They told me you might be over here,” he said as he approached. “Surprised I could find you at all.”

Connor raised an arm to welcome Chris into the circle where Nabulungi and Michael had moved on to a conversation about the possibility of Transformers as an alien species versus Transformers as a manmade device. Arnold had joined in excitedly while Kimbay and Pete turned to greet Chris as he entered the group.

Connor’s hand landed on the back of Chris’s neck and a beautiful golden light swelled up in smoke-like strands. Kevin thought it was probably the most beautiful spirit light he had ever seen (his own not included of course).

“Sorry I’m late, everybody, I had class,” Chris said sheepishly.

“On a Saturday?” Michael asked.

“Special course about fad diets. It’s not technically part of the curriculum, but we’re ‘highly encouraged’ to attend,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “There’s no consequence for not attending, but it’s actually pretty interesting so, whatever. Have I missed anything?”

“No, Schrader’s not drunk enough yet,” Connor answered.

“Can’t be long now, though.” Chris seemed to see Kevin for the first time since arriving and he smiled broadly at him. “Kevin, you made it!” he exclaimed. “That’s so cool, man, I’m glad you’re here!” He glanced down at Kevin’s cup and his eyebrows raised. “You not drinking? Or is that vodka.”

“Water,” Kevin told him. “I don’t drink.”

“Why not?”

Having never been to a party before, having never hung around people who weren’t Morman for much more than a group project before, Kevin hadn’t really expected the question. He supposed he should have, he and Arnold were the only ones in the whole house not drinking, but it still caught him a little off guard.

“Kevin’s Mormon,” Connor answered for him, face looking just a bit too stiff. “They don’t drink.”

Chris looked confused, which was not the look Kevin would have expected. “You’re Mormon?” he asked. Had Kevin really never told him? He supposed it had never come up during his daily quest for caffeine. “I thought Mormon’s weren’t supposed to drink coffee.”

Kevin and Arnold exchanged a look of cautious amusement. “I’m not a very good Mormon,” Kevin told him in good humour.

“How did you know about that?” Arnold asked, delighted. “Not a lot of people know about that rule.”

“Oh, Connor used to be Mormon,” Chris said.

Connor’s smile was halfway to a grimace, tight and avoiding the eyes. The whole group could sense the sudden tension except for Chris and, for a moment, Kevin was worried Connor was going to storm off.

Of all the facts that he had expected to learn about Connor, this hadn’t even been on the list. There were so many questions suddenly in his mind, the most prominent of which was, ‘used to be?’ Connor seemed to be so very different from what one would expect of a Mormon boy, but at the same time, there were hints and clues, remnants of the religion about him. The way he stood, the tidiness of his clothes, the careful way in which his hair was styled, they were all very recognizable traits for Kevin and he was a little surprised he hadn’t caught on at least a little. That smile.

“Hey, Chris,” Connor said, “mind if I talk to you for a second?”

Chris smiled uncertainly. “Yeah, okay,” he said, and then he followed Connor through the crowd.

“What was that about?” Kevin asked once they were gone.

“Connor always gets a little touchy when he drinks,” Pete said with a shrug. “Could’ve been anything.”

“A couple of more drinks and he’ll go from touchy to touchy,” Kimbay said with a wiggle of her eyebrows. Pete laughed into his drink.

So Connor was a flirty drunk. The thought both scared and excited Kevin. What if Connor flirted with him, said his crush. But, oh God, what if Connor flirted with him, said his anxiety. Kevin wouldn’t know what to do if someone tried to flirt with him. Certainly Connor had flirted with him before, but under different circumstances, in a different stage of knowing one another. But as much as it worried him that it would come to that, it worried him more that Connor might try to flirt with someone else.

Before he could think up a game plan, Connor and Chris returned, looking a little less troubling and holding a bowl of chips. “Sorry about that,” Connor apologized placing the chips on a nearby bookshelf. Arnold and Kimbay helped themselves to it eagerly. “Hey, Kevin,” Connor said, putting his hand on Kevin’s shoulder and making Kevin’s heart thump, “come with me to the kitchen, I’m gonna make you a drink.”

“I don’t drink, Connor,” Kevin replied, but the other boy was already walking away.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” he told him cryptically.

Kevin cast a glance to Arnold, who was too busy putting a chip in Nabulungi’s mouth to return the gaze, before he followed after Connor.

When he got to the kitchen, forcing his way past a couple making out in the doorway, Kevin found Connor standing near the counter inspecting some bottles. “What kind of flavours do you like?” he asked without turning around.

“Oh, uh, I’m not sure,” Kevin answered lamely.

Connor turned to smile at him compassionately. “Come here and take a look,” he said with a tilt of the head.

Kevin approached cautiously and looked down at the array of bottles. Most of them were variations of the same 4 alcohols, but many of them were juices or mixers. “I’m gonna make you a mocktail,” Connor told him. “Water’s so boring and we’re at a party, you deserve to live it up a little. Pick whatever you want.”

Kevin wasn’t sure Connor could be telling him what he deserved, but he accepted the offer and studied the labels. After a moment he set out a few, opting for a mango pineapple concoction, which Connor began happily mixing into a cup for him.

Connor’s back, now facing Kevin, seemed to be endlessly fascinating. In only a t-shirt, the curve of his back was much more visible than usual, the fabric draping loosely over the dip beneath his shoulder blades. Kevin wanted to reach out and touch, to push the fabric in and mold it to the form of Connor’s spine, feel the muscle and bone beneath the cotton. It was a stupid urge, but a powerful one, and Kevin opted to divert his gaze in the hopes of diverting his mind as well.

He wanted to ask about the Mormon thing. Would it upset Connor? Was it inappropriate? He wasn’t sure. What had he wanted to speak to Poptarts about?

“Is everything okay?” he asked instead.

Connor turned a curious eye to him and Kevin felt a blip of anxiety. “Yeah?” Connor replied. “Why do you ask? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kevin assured him, “I’m just… What happened earlier with Chris, you didn’t seem very happy.”

The couple in the doorway slipped out into the living room leaving Connor and Kevin alone. Connor nodded, pursing his lips as he handed Kevin his drink. “I don’t like people knowing I used to be Mormon,” he answered honestly. “It wasn’t a happy time in my life and I don’t like thinking about it. And I really didn’t want you to know because I know you are Mormon and I thought you might take offence.”

“Why would I take offence? Not everybody’s got to be what I am. If you’re not happy with it, you don’t have to be Mormon.”

Connor quirked his eyebrow and smirked, watching as Kevin took a sip of the drink. It was incredibly sweet and a bit fizzier than he was prepared for, but it was good, made better by the fact that Connor had made it for him. “Isn’t that kind of the Mormon thing, though? Making everyone Mormon? You go on whole two year Missions with the soul purpose of making more Mormons.”

“Yeah,” Kevin admitted. “But I’m not a very good Mormon, am I?” He lifted the drink to take another sip, muttering into the cup, “I’m not sure I really count as Mormon at this point.”

Connor frowned. “What do you mean?”

“My Mission didn’t go too well and there was this whole thing that happened, Arnold became a Prophet, we started a new religion, got excommunicated, the whole deal. But long story short, once it was all over and I was back in the States… I don’t know. I guess I’m not really sure I believe in God.”

The look Connor was giving his could only be described as bewildered captivation. For a beat after Kevin finished he said nothing, but then he burst out a laugh. “Wow,” he said through his giggles. “That’s the wildest thing I’ve ever heard. I have got to know that story.”

Kevin shook his head. “No, it’s not party conversation.” Connor didn’t need to know that Kevin hadn’t been to a party since Jorge’s 12th birthday party in the 7th grade and Kevin really had no clue what constituted polite party conversation. It was a funny sort of event to look back on, but it was still much too recent for Kevin to detach himself enough to laugh about it. It had been a really difficult part of his life, and even though he had gotten back on track since then, he found it best not to dwell too much.

“That’s bullshit,” Connor said. “You’re a Mormon boy who drinks coffee and doesn’t believe in God. Started a religion? That’s insane!”

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“No. It is. It’s absolutely hilarious.”

“Hey,” Kevin said, trying to sound serious, but unable to contain his laughter. “If you get your Mormon secrets, then I get mine.”

Connor pointed an accusatory finger at him. “I’m gonna get that story, mark my words, if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Sure, sure.” Kevin wanted to stay in that kitchen forever with Connor. He wanted to touch him and kiss him and tease him and to ignore the party that was happening around them, but he knew better. “We’d better get back to the group, I think there’s a party happening or something.”

“Okay, but first, this has been bothering me all night,” Connor said, stepping in very close. Kevin looked at him in confusion and alarm as Connor reached out and grabbed his shirt, tugging it free of his waistband. Once it was out all the way around (which involved a semi-hug that Kevin really enjoyed) Connor took a step back and admired his handiwork. “Much better.” He looked Kevin in the eye and said, “No one tucks in a denim shirt. Now come on, let’s get back to the party.”

Flustered, Kevin took a moment to recover before following Connor back out into the throng. He had almost forgotten how crowded the place was, and as time passed they were all only getting drunker. When they found the group again, a couple pairs of eyes gazed knowingly at them and Kevin was suddenly aware of how it must seem. Entering the kitchen alone with the flirtatious Connor (who wasn’t drunk yet, but still) and exiting far later than it took to make a drink with his shirt untucked and half his drink gone.

He noticed Arnold grinning at him and put on his best withering expression, hoping Arnold hadn’t paid attention during the moments where Connor’s arms were around him or when Kevin had become absorbed in the view of Connor’s shirt. The look didn’t work and Arnold raised his eyebrows causing Kevin to roll his eyes and glance to Connor to make sure he wasn’t witnessing the silent conversation.

The rest of the night carried on without much hassle. A young man, identified by Chris as being Schrader, managed to get onto the roof and leap into the backyard pool mostly naked, but other than that there was nothing of note. Connor dragged Kevin and Nabulungi down into the basement where a lively game of flipcup was being played and taught them the rules. Nabulungi turned out to be very good at it and earned herself a respectable mass of drunken groupies. Arnold busied himself with the snacks and made good friends with Chris, the two of them discussing television and food in intricate detail. They eventually joined a group in some card game on the coffee table where Kevin found them later.

Somewhere in the middle of the flipcup game Connor had vanished once again, and he reappeared, significantly drunker, at the end of the fourth round of cards. The smell of weed wafted in whenever the sliding glass doors to the backyard were opened and, once again, Kevin felt sorry for the neighbours.

“Are the parties always like this?” he asked Chris over a loud Queen song that a majority of the party was all too happy to sing along to at the top of their inebriated lungs.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Chris said, getting on the drunk side of tipsy himself. “Way better than culinary school. Theatre kids will wreck the house!”

Kevin nodded and looked up to find that once again, Connor had wandered off. Deciding he needed the bathroom, Kevin told Arnold he would be back in a moment and made off down the hall to try to locate the facilities. Ghali was nowhere in sight, so he didn’t feel confident that if he asked anyone he would get a proper answer. It was a standard suburban house, so he reasoned there must be a washroom on each floor at least.

When he finally located the main floor washroom, he discovered it was already occupied, possibly by the couple who had been making out in the kitchen, and he decided to try his luck with the much less populated second floor. Most of the party was confined to the bottom two floors and the backyard, so when he reached the top of the stairs, Kevin was happy to find the hallway abandoned.

It took four doors before Kevin found the right one and the moment he closed it behind him, he realized how much he had missed the quiet. The music and its devoted party singers were still audible, but they were muffled, and he spent a bit longer washing his hands than was necessary for the sake of a few more moments of blissful isolation and peace.

Mostly, Kevin was fine with crowds and noise, he enjoyed people. But this many, all at once, and so loud, it was a major adjustment to make from studying silently alone in his bedroom. He could get used to it, though. Kevin could adapt to anything.

It was a few more minutes before he emerged and made his way back down the stairs into the throngs who were now singing a muddled version of Bohemian Rhapsody. On his way back to the living room where his soulmate was situated, a hand grabbed his upper arm, stopping him in his tracks. It was the red hair he saw first, and he smiled when he recognized Connor’s face as well.

“Kevin!” Connor shouted. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Oh my God, come on, we’re going somewhere.”

Kevin let himself be led through the bodies and beers and, surprisingly, back up the stairs. “Are you sure we’re allowed up here Connor?” Kevin asked, glancing back as they rounded the corner into the hall. He already felt guilty about using the upper floor bathroom, but now Connor seemed to be pulling them into one of the bedrooms. “Connor.”

Connor let Kevin go once they were fully in the room and enthusiastically threw himself onto the bed, letting out a happy sigh. The bedroom looked to be a spare, judging by the décor, but it still didn’t feel any less uncomfortable. “Connor, I don’t think we should be in here.”

“Relax, Kevin! No one’s going to come up here, they’re not going to find us.” He sat up, hair sticking out in strange places and patted the bed beside him. Kevin didn’t move. “Kevin, I just want to talk, you’re so much fun to talk to!”

“We should go back downstairs.”

Connor laughed. “You’re so paranoid! Kevin!” He threw open his arms. “Kevin, you’re so pretty, oh my gosh. Boys can be pretty, so don’t worry, but also you’re handsome an’ hot, an’ I feel like you need to know this.”

The slurred words shouldn’t have inspired pride in Kevin’s chest, but he still found himself preening. “You’re so drunk.”

“I know! Isn’t it great?”

Kevin knew enough about drinking to know that Connor was going to have a wicked hangover in the morning, so he shook his head in disbelief and turned towards the open door. “I’m going to get you some water.”

He was stopped in his tracked by Connor’s hand on his sleeve. Apparently it was going to be a night of touching and it had started off exciting and new, but now it was just getting obstructive. “No, don’t, stay here with me! Please?”

Kevin took one look at Connor’s pleading expression and that was all it took for him to sigh and walk back over to the bed and sit down. Connor let out a whoop and flopped down onto his back again. “You’re so great, Kevin. Listen, it’s okay for boys to be pretty. If girls can be handsome then boys can be pretty. An’ you’re so pretty, Kevin.”

“Yeah, you said that already.”

The attention was nice, the compliments were nice, but it would have been nicer under difference circumstances.

“Am I pretty, Kevin?”

“Yeah, you’re pretty, Connor.”

“How pretty?”

Kevin laughed and leaned back on his palms. “The prettiest boy at the party.”

Connor rolled his head to look at him with big eyes and Kevin was somehow certain that Connor probably wasn’t going to remember much of this the next day. It was probably the best opportunity he had to say whatever he wanted to Connor and still get a clean slate.

“Do you like me, Kevin?” Connor asked softly.

Kevin’s heart jumped a bit. ‘He won’t remember,’ a voice in his head told him. “Yeah,” he admitted. It felt pretty good to say.

Connor sat up, staring forward with a blank gaze. “I like you too,” he whispered as though he were trying to sort out a puzzle.

“I know.”

“You know an’ you didn’t tell me?” Connor slurred loudly, eyes searching Kevin’s face. Kevin laughed. How could he still feel so enamoured with this boy, drunk as he was and falling all over himself? His eyes, wide and blue, were perfect, his red hair, falling all over the place, was perfect, and his face, shocked and clumsy, was beautiful. “Kevin!” Connor shouted. “We’ve got to do something about this.”

“Do what?”

Connor shrugged. “We could make out. You wanna make out?”

Kevin let out a nervous laugh. He’d never kissed a boy before, it was kind of thrilling to have it suggested, but it also scared the hell out of him. “No, I don’t think we should.”

“Why not? We like each other, Kevin, what else are we gonna do?”

“You’re too drunk, Connor.”

“So if I wasn’t drunk you would make out with me?” he asked frankly.

Kevin smiled and made a face like he was considering it. “Maybe,” he said. “I might. Or maybe you’d have to kiss me first.”

“And what if I kiss you first now?”

Kevin took in Connor’s wavering posture, the subtle tilt of his head so that his eyes were peering up at him, the scent of beer on his breath. It all made him just a little uncomfortable and, while he certainly wanted to kiss Connor, now didn’t seem to be the time.

“I’m going to go find Chris,” Kevin said, standing up again.

Behind him, the bed creaked as Connor leapt up and once again, Kevin was stopped in his track by Connor grabbing at his the tail of his shirt. “No,” Connor whined. “Don’t. Chris will be mad at me, he doesn’t like it when I drink so much.”

“Then why did you drink so much?”

“Because it’s a party!” Connor cried, throwing his arms up. “We’re celebrating! The show, it happened! We get to drink and dance and have fun!” His hands came down to land on Kevin’s shoulders and Connor looked at him in earnest. “We get to fool around and relax! You never relax, Kevin!”

“How do you know I never relax?” Kevin asked defensively, keeping his ground as Connor took a step towards him, hands sliding down to his upper arms. Standing this close, Kevin could see every freckle on Connor’s nose.

“Because I’ve met you,” Connor said with a laugh.

It felt like a challenge, as though Kevin needed to prove him wrong. He knew how to relax, he knew how to have fun. “I relax all the time,” he said. Defiantly, he took a half step forward, crowding Connor whose smile became one of interest and approval. “Fun is my middle name.”

“Okay, Kevin Fun Price, if you’re so good at it,“ his arms slipped their way around Kevin’s neck, “why don’t you kiss me?”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to take advantage of you, Connor.”

Connor blew a raspberry and Kevin grinned in delighted disgust. “Oh, pooh, it’s not like we’re getting married or something. Lighten up, Kev, it’s just a kiss.”

Just a kiss. The concept of a kiss had always seemed like some great hurdle for Kevin, something special and important. In part, because he had never had one before, but also because the Church had taught him that things like kissing were meant to be a big deal. Gestures of affection like that were to be reserved for people with whom you had some sort of commitment, and certainly not for drunk boys you barely knew in empty bedrooms above parties. And of course there were other reservations.

But if it was just a kiss. If there was no meaning. Did he want it to have meaning?

‘Stop overthinking it,’ said the tiny Arnold in his head.

He wanted to kiss Connor. Maybe that’s all there was to it. He grabbed onto Connor’s waste gently, but fast, desperate to go through with it before he changed his mind. Connor’s soft frown quickly grew into an excited grin and Kevin’s heart pounded in his ribcage.

“Close your eyes,” Connor instructed him.

He did.

It was Connor’s breath he felt first, then his warmth, his body move closer beneath his hands. He was terrified and excited and couldn’t possibly move and the thrill he felt in his chest when Connor finally kissed him was enough to mute everything.

It’s amazing how much two people can spend time together without their skin ever touching. A student and their professor can go for years without ever making physical contact because it would be inappropriate, breaking that streak with a handshake at the end of the semester because Isabelle made some good progress and it was an honour to have her in class. Two people with a mutual friend who aren’t really friends with each other can smile awkwardly and make polite conversation and never get beyond a wave and that time they awkwardly brushed hands during a group hug. Neighbours can see one another every day and never once touch until one day at a barbeque a mosquito lands on Janice and suddenly there’s Phil slapping it off her arm with more force than is probably necessary. People may never touch at all.

It took Kevin and Connor one week to make contact.

In his blind joy, Kevin almost didn’t notice the green light glowing behind his eyelids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like we didn't all see that coming. Warning for a panic attack in the next chapter.
> 
> -G


	6. Kevin Price Goes to Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In addition to the panic attack warning, this chapter also contains allusions to sexual assault (re: the General)

Kevin’s eyes snapped open, flooding with luminous green smoke, and he leapt away from Connor just as the other’s eyes opened as well.

They stood for a moment, staring at one another, minds blank, eyes wide, because what they had seen could not have been real. It wasn’t possible. Connor’s hand slowly raised, his fingers dusted the surface of Kevin’s cheek and the vibrant green shone across his features. The hand snapped back. “Kevin…” he said.

And then Kevin was running. Into the hallway, past the party, through the front door. He heard someone call his name, but he could barely hear it through the gushing in his ears, could only feel the way his heart was near vibrating in his chest, the way his lungs kept sucking in air over and over and over. His legs were numb, but they pumped faithfully beneath him, even as he did not know where they were taking him.

The street was damp and dark, the streetlights glistening on the pavement and Kevin’s sneakers slapped the ground, nowhere near as fast as his pulse, nowhere close to stopping. Not a single thought breached his mind, not a single emotion cut through the pain growing in his chest, but the symptoms were there. There was a pressure at the base of his skull, like someone were gripping his spine, spreading energy across his face and neck, down his throat, through his chest, reaching out to grasp at his belly. Energy. Nothing but energy and breathing and the painful thump in his chest that was growing more erratic by the second.

It was possible that he would have run all the way home, had he known what direction it was in. It was probable he would have tried anyways had his legs not finally given out, dropping him carelessly to the damp ground, sending him sprawling. Blood beaded in the palms of his hands where they scraped the pavement, but he didn’t feel a second of it; all he could feel was the heaving of his chest and the constriction in his lungs as they tried time after time to suck in the clammy suburban air.

As he lay there, gasping up at the dark sky, eyes bugged, water soaking into his shirt, he could hear people calling to him, and soon faces were above him, people he did not recognize, sounding alarmed and frightened, but untranslatable. A hand came to his face and he flinched away violently, croaking in lieu of screaming, and the pair who knelt above him cried out to one another in words that were drowned out by Kevin’s own heart.

The ground beneath him felt miles away, his head several inches above his body, but the solid pressure of the street still pressed firmly into his scalp. There was a phone, a call was placed, his head was getting lighter, he was starting to see spots of white.

Arnold.

Arnold calling his name, Arnold crashing to his knees next to him, breathing hard, face red from running, Arnold lifting him, cradling him like he was shattered china to be handled delicately, Arnold almost crying. His hand touched Kevin’s forehead, warm and distant. Blue. Blue light, blue smoke, a blue wave of familiarity, and then darkness.

~

It wasn’t the first time a panic attack had landed Kevin in the hospital.

By now the white walls and sterile smell was familiar to him, but it didn’t make him like it any more than he had as a kid.

They kept him overnight, making sure it wasn’t a physical malady that had thrown his lungs and heart into pseudo-seizure, and once they had that reassurance there was a psychologist at his bedside asking him all sorts of questions. He had heard them all before. He tried to give answers that weren’t too incriminating, and made the cause as vague as possible.

With all of the energy he had in him, he pushed the memory as deep down as he possibly could, because it hadn’t happened. It never happened. There was no Connor, there was no kiss, no party, no glowing green light, nothing had happened. If it hadn’t happened then there was no reason to be concerned.

Arnold sat through it with him, watching and listening worriedly, just as familiar with hospitals as Kevin was, but no less afraid. Kevin tried not to look at him, feeling guilty and scared, knowing full well the great mess he was causing once again.

He didn’t tell Arnold what had happened. He wouldn’t dare tell anybody.

Soon, they were home again with instruction to rest and a shiny new prescription. Arnold told Kevin firmly that he wasn’t going to any of his classes that week. Kevin told Arnold that they would see about that.

“What happened?” Arnold asked.

Kevin was sat on the couch, knees drawn up and looking anywhere but at his soulmate. “Nothing happened,” he lied. “It was just a panic attack, it happens.”

Arnold, whose distress prevented him from sitting, stood cross-armed next to the coffee table. That worry that always happened after a bad night was radiating from him, pooling at the bottom of Kevin’s mind. “Panic attacks don’t just happen, Kevin,” he said. “Something triggers it, we both know that.”

“Not always,” Kevin muttered.

“You were upstairs with Connor when it happened,” Arnold continued, pacing the living room. “Did something happen with him? Did he do something to you?”

“Why do you think he would do something to me?” Kevin said, irritated by Arnold’s pacing and scared he would find out the truth. Arnold had never been good in a crisis and the aftermath was no better.

“It’s happened before, Kevin, it felt the same.”

“Don’t bring that shit up!” Kevin snapped, shooting Arnold a scathing glare. What had happened in Uganda wasn’t something he wanted to relive and in spite of everything he refused to acknowledge, it wasn’t something he wanted Connor to be accused of. “That was years ago, not everything goes back to that!”

“It doesn’t matter that it was years ago, what matters is that it happened at all!” Arnold cried out, stopping just across the table from Kevin. “You didn’t tell me about it then, either, I had to wait until we got back and even then it took Dr. Gotswana to make you open up to me about it. How am I supposed to trust you if you don’t tell me about these things?”

Kevin stared at Arnold, betrayal in his eyes and in his heart. “I don’t owe you anything.”

Arnold returned the gaze, tears threatening, and whispered, “I just want to help you, Kevin.”

“You can help me by leaving it alone.”

Arnold looked down at the table, trying to regain his control, fighting the anger and confusion and fear that Kevin was driving into his mind, and out of pure spite Kevin hoped he would fail. “I’m not-“ He shook his head and balled his fists at his side, building enough courage to speak, but not enough to look him in the eye. “I’m not going to leave it alone, Kevin, because I care about you. Because I am your soulmate and your support system.” Kevin rolled his eyes as he recognized the words Dr. Gotswana had taught to Arnold the previous year, spoken deliberately and with rehearsed precision. “I am going to support you through this difficult time and help you feel safe. You are not alone in your struggle and I am here to provide whatever you need-“

“I feel fine.” The shake in his voice betrayed the lie and he grimaced. Gotswana had always encouraged him to share and communicate his emotions. He despised it. But clearly Arnold wasn’t going to leave this alone until some sort of protocol was achieved. “Okay, I don’t feel fine. I feel tired. I feel stressed. I am not in a position in which I am ready to share and would appreciate some space to recover before I let you in.”

The words seemed to satiate Arnold a little bit, his shoulders relaxing slightly even as his brow remained furrowed. A look crossed his face that Kevin barely managed to register as guilt before he said quietly, “I messaged Connor. I asked him what happened.”

Sharp terror hit Kevin and he waited in suspense for Arnold to finish.

“He said he didn’t remember anything, he blacked out last night.”

Relief flooded his gut and Arnold’s reaction made it clear he noticed, but he didn’t comment. “Did they call my parents?”

“No.”

“Good. They don’t need to know.”

“They’re going to find out when they get the bill.” Kevin grimaced. “Sorry.”

A surprise bill in the mail was the last thing Kevin’s relationship with his parents needed, but with any luck it would be a few weeks and he would have time to come up with a reasonable alibi. In the meantime, it seemed that he was the only one in the world who knew what had happened. What hadn’t happened. What could never have happened because it wasn’t possible and because Kevin refused to believe it.

A thought crossed his mind that maybe Connor had spiked his drink. Maybe it had been some horrible hallucination, a figment of his drugged mind. But it seemed so real. It had looked and felt real. He was having a hard time convincing himself that it was probably something in the drink, but by God was he going to stick with it. It was the only possible explanation.

“I need to go out and pick up something for dinner,” Arnold was saying, shuffling his feet. “You gonna be okay on your own for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Kevin lied, “I’ll probably just… go lie down in my room for a while. Maybe sleep a bit.”

“Okay.” Arnold slipped on his shoes and looked to Kevin uncertainly. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

“For the love of- Yes, Arnold! I’ll be okay! It’s not like I’m terminal or something!”

“Okay.” He hesitated once more in the open doorway before slipping out into the hall leaving Kevin alone in the apartment.

Peace and quiet and isolation. It was exactly what Kevin needed right now, even if his doctors would have disagreed. He needed space to think and to sort out his muddled head and he just couldn’t do that with Arnold and a legion of nurses breathing down his neck. After a moment of simply relaxing into the relief of it, Kevin got up and went to the bathroom. He had a hot shower to rid himself of the scent of the hospital and sweat, changed his clothes, shut his door, turned down the lights, and closed the curtains. Seclusion.

On his desk, along with a mug full of pens and various office supplies and knick-knacks, were the pile of books Connor had helped him pick out in the library the week before. Kevin’s first instinct was to fill with hurt and anger at the memory of it, but much too soon it was replaced with the horrified realization that he was currently two days behind on his schoolwork. Not just the ghost essay, but his other essays and readings and there was likely some online quiz he was forgetting about.

Perhaps it was better to focus on his work again. There was no doubt he would much rather read about Catholic Purgatory in the distant past than think more about Connor and the party and everything that had or had not happened.

So he sat down at his desk, pulling a blanket from his bed over his shoulders, and flipped open the first book he could get his hands on. It was surprisingly easy to slip into the words, like his whole being was just as determined to push away the last 24 hours as he was.

He was vaguely aware when the front door opened and closed, distantly smelled the aroma of whatever it was Arnold had decided to cook that night, completely missed the gentle knock at his door and the sound of it opening.

“Hey, Kev?”

Kevin glanced up at Arnold briefly, set on finishing this chapter before the night was through. “What?”

“I made dinner. You’ve been in here for a while, you wanna come out and eat with me? We can watch whatever you want.”

“No thanks,” Kevin muttered.

“Oh. You want me to bring it in here? You should eat, you didn’t really eat much today.”

“Sure.”

Arnold retreated as Kevin flipped the page and returned with a plate of something delicious. Kevin looked down at it for a second, then looked again. “What is this?” he asked.

“It’s, uh, baked potato skins. Chris was telling me about some recipes last night and I kind of wanted to try them, they sounded good.”

Kevin wanted to recoil at the name, to sneer and tell Arnold not to speak to Chris anymore, not to befriend anyone who may have contact with Connor McKinley. But his tired mind told him he had been unkind enough for one night. Arnold didn’t deserve to get wrapped up in this, no matter how much Kevin wanted him to be. So instead he smiled and a look of relief crossed Arnold’s face as he said, “It smells really good, Arnold. Thank you.”

Arnold nodded. “I’m thinkin’ of doing cauliflower penne tomorrow night. He sent me a bunch of recipes for all kinds of things.”

“That sounds great, I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”

The relief in Arnold was a comforting weight in Kevin’s head and it actually made him feel a little better. But his fingers were itching to return to his book and he said, “I gotta get back to my reading. Thanks again for dinner, Arnold.”

“No problem, Kev. And uh… maybe… take it easy on the reading tonight. You’re probably tired and uh…”

“Sure,” Kevin said. Another lie. But it got Arnold to smile a little and he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Say what he would, Arnold was terrible at telling when Kevin was lying, and it was a lovely benefit to have him believe the opposite.

The food really was good. Despite not feeling particularly hungry, Kevin managed to scarf down the whole thing and he only got a bit of it on his books.

He went to bed at the regular time that night, filling the evening with reading and note-taking, and Arnold forwent the usual formality of going to his own room, choosing that night to simply crawl into Kevin’s bed when Kevin did and the two of them fell asleep. Kevin had to admit, it was nice to have someone there when he woke up from his bad dream rather than coming round to an empty room and waiting for Arnold to show up. He wondered if this level of codependency was normal. He wondered if he should be worried.

The next day Kevin didn’t go to any of his classes. Instead he stayed home and tried to focus once more on his readings and essays. But unlike the night before he was having trouble finding his focus. Now that he had gotten a good night sleep and his mind had had time to process the events that had taken place, Kevin began to wonder if his theory really was more correct than his memory. Had Connor put something in the drink? It was impossible to say.

One of the first things they had done at the hospital was test his blood for drugs or other abnormalities, but they hadn’t told him the results. That must have meant there was nothing there. Right? Or was it simply not something they needed him to know at the time? Connor’s back had been to Kevin while he was mixing the drink so if he had put something in there then Kevin wouldn’t have noticed. He was far too busy with staring at the way Connor’s shirt draped over his body and the questions about his faith. In general, Kevin’s faculties had all felt a little off that night, he hadn’t really had his wits about him.

Connor had been drinking.

The thought popped into his head entirely uninvited. Connor had been drinking and what effect would that have on Kevin if they were soulmates?

But they weren’t. They couldn’t be. Kevin had Arnold and Connor had Chris, they were spoken for. But maybe that was just the drugs warping his memory. Could he trust anything he remembered from that night?

It was all far too confusing.

There was a buzz on his desk. His phone. He hadn’t checked his phone, not since that night. Hesitantly, Kevin reached for it and turned it on. 15 messages and 2 missed calls. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who they were from. The two calls were from Arnold as well as three of the messages. But the other 12 were from a very panicky Connor.

He didn’t read Connor’s messages, barely escaped convincing himself to delete the contact entirely, but instead turned to the three messages from Arnold. The first two were from Saturday night, frightened and worried and asking what had happened. The third was what had caused the phone to buzz only moments ago.

‘How you feeling, best friend?’

‘Fine, just getting some work done,’ Kevin replied.

‘Don’t work too hard!’

Kevin sighed and sent back a reassurance that he intended to take a nap that afternoon. Then, after a long moment, he reopened the conversation with Connor. Nearly all 12 messages were from the day before asking what had happened, if he was okay, why he was in hospital. Kevin read all the messages over twice before turning off his phone without replying to them.

He seemed genuinely concerned, but he was still guilty, he had done this, he had caused this, he was to blame.

It was all just a little confusing. Okay, that was a lie, it was all a lot confusing. Kevin needed some guidance. He needed guidance and he couldn’t talk to Arnold about this, couldn’t talk to his parents, he had no one else. There was only really one place he could turn.

The church was mostly empty at that time of day. The sacrament room was entirely abandoned when Kevin entered it, the pews and podium such different presences than they were when full of worshipers. While Kevin and Arnold only attended the Sunday services at their local Ward, there were classes being held all the time. He hadn’t attended a class since he was 18 or so and never in this particular city, so while he knew the basic layout of the building, the location of anyone who could help him was a little beyond his realm of knowledge.

Walking down the aisle between the pews, Kevin thought back to the times he had been invited to stand behind the pew and tell his sermons, to lead his hymns. As the local up-and-comer of his church back home, he had been given special attention by the Branch President, but it didn’t mean he was granted any more time before the congregation than anyone else.

The sermon after his return from Uganda was possibly the hardest. How was he meant to speak of a God he didn’t believe in? How was he meant to preach to people with whom he had lost his connection? The sermon he had given had been about hope and about community, but he meant it in a different way than it was taken.

“Can I help you?”

A man stood in the doorway in a dark blue suit and perfect greying hair, and Kevin recognized him instantly as the ward bishop.

“Bishop Young,” Kevin replied. “How do you do?”

“Brother Price, it is good to see you,” Young said with that trademark Mormon grin. He strode forward and placed a gentle hand on Kevin’s arm. “I noticed you weren’t at the service yesterday, were you ill?”

“Yes,” Kevin said. Not exactly a lie, but it felt like one. “Bishop Young, I need some guidance. Or, no, not guidance. Information. I was hoping you could help me?”

“It’s good to see you’re feeling better, but I am troubled to hear that you are troubled,” Young responded. “I would be happy to help you in any way that I can. Would you like to go to one of the classrooms to discuss it?”

“No,” Kevin said hastily. Being in a classroom would leave them no more isolated than their current location, but the sacrament room felt more familiar to Kevin. It felt like if he needed to, he could escape. “It won’t be long, Bishop Young, I just have a few questions to ask you. Well, one question really. It’s a question about something rather important and I didn’t know who else might be able to help.”

The bishop’s face was serious, filled with concern, and he gestured for Kevin to walk. After a pause, Kevin complied, slowly stepping further down the aisle with the bishop keeping pace. “One of our teachers might be better suited to answering questions,” he said, “but I will try to help you as well as I can.”

When they reached the foot of the stage, just below the podium, they stopped and Kevin turned to Young without looking up at him. “It may seem like a kind of weird question, but it really is important that I know. It’s a matter of faith, I guess. Or maybe more of a matter of personal insight. Is it possible,” he began, swallowing his nerves, “for a person to have more than one soulmate?”

Young didn’t answer for a moment and Kevin looked up to find the bishop’s brow creased in thought, his eyes searching. “That’s not an unusual question at all, Brother Price, it’s a perfectly natural thing to consider.” Kevin’s shoulders relaxed, but his stomach remained tense. “In all the world, in all the universe, each one of us has a special spiritual connection with one other person. It is a bond that stretches back before our birth, formed with the creation of time. At the moment the universe was created we were gifted with another soul, innately connected to our own, one which we are destined to find in life. This other soul is our balance and our foil. They complete us yet we remain separate until the point at which we die and are then reunited in the afterlife. It is the deepest rooted partnership in existence. There is no one without the other.”

“I know all this, Bishop Young,” Kevin moaned. “It’s in every book, we learn about it for years. What I’m asking is: can one person have two soulmates? Is that possible?”

Young nodded. “I understand what you are asking, and had you paid attention in your lessons you would know the answer.”

“Humour me.”

“It is not possible,” Young replied at last. “Heavenly Father created us in pairs and there is no other way to exist. It is possible, however, to meet someone with whom you feel that same connection. A person you may believe to have been made just for you, but they are not the same because they lack the basic spiritual connection. Just as one can be born to a family and then find a new one as they grow and mature, one is born into a partnership and may grow to form new partnerships along the way. You may feel as though this person is your true soulmate, but they are not. Infatuation or love can be misleading. When I first met my wife I believed her to be the perfect woman for me. She seemed so finely molded to what I needed in my life that I could have described her as being like a soulmate to me, but I have a true soulmate. No matter how much I love my wife and no matter how much she loves me, I still have that partnership with my soulmate in addition to the partnership I have formed with my wife.”

“So in short, the answer is ‘no.’”

“That would be an oversimplified way of looking at it.”

Kevin cast a reproachful glance to the bishop before turning to sit heavily on the ledge of the stage. If it was impossible, as he had already suspected, then why was the memory so clear? What had really happened that night? Arnold was his soulmate, there was no question about that, they had known since they were three years old, but then what did that make Connor?

“There are three old women who live in this city,” Kevin said, recalling a lesson from his history class in high school. “Three women who are all soulmates with each other. Why aren’t they governed by this rule?”

Young’s mouth twitched and he gave the facial equivalent of a shrug and said, “Heavenly Father works in mysterious ways. They were clearly a special case, the only kind in the world. It’s possible they have some higher purpose, or perhaps it is more complex than that.” He regarded Kevin’s downcast expression and then sighed, stepping closer and speaking softly. “There is a great deal we do not know, Brother Price, and we can only hope to attempt to understand. A great deal of what we do here at the church is try to understand. Our faith is our understanding of the world and sometimes our faith… can be a little vague. We cannot claim to know all, but we can try to learn. In learning we better ourselves and in bettering ourselves, we better the world.”

Kevin rested his face in his hand, trying not to let Young see the hopeless and despairing confusion in his mind.

“I notice that we do not see you in classes or activities during the week or during Sunday School. Is there any reason for this?”

“No,” Kevin said softly, not having the energy to be guilt tripped by his religion more than he already had in his life.

“I suggest you attend,” Young said. “There is a lot we learn in these classes that may be helpful, especially to those who feel lost.”

“Am I lost?”

“If you weren’t, would you have come here today?”

Kevin looked up at Young through his fingers and saw the same stoic compassion that was used to lead their congregation every Sunday. It was familiar, and in all that had happened, Kevin needed familiar. Sitting upright he raised his eyebrows and let out a breath. “I feel lost, Bishop Young, but I don’t think it’s in the way you believe it to be.”

“And what way would that be?”

“I’m not sure I have the words necessary to describe it.”

The bishop considered Kevin for a moment and Kevin hoped he could not see the secrets he was hiding. “Do you remember when you first arrived at our Ward, Brother Price?”

“Yes.”

“You were lost then as well. It was written in the way you held yourself. We asked that you and Brother Cunningham prepare sermons to give as a way of introduction, but you refused. You said… I can’t quite remember what it is you said, but it amounted to the idea that the sermon was not in your nature. You thought yourself unable, or perhaps unsuited to give a sermon to our congregation. Do you remember that?”

“Yes.”

“You have been with us for nearly three years,” Bishop Young continued. “In all that time you have refused to lead any sermons, hymns or prayers. I think it would benefit you now to break that streak. Perhaps, you might find the words.”

“I can’t, Bishop Young, I’m- I have a lot already to do. I don’t have time to prepare a sermon.”

“It doesn’t have to be this Sunday or even next Sunday. But at some point in your future, you may be ready. I find that writing is a good way to focus the mind and to find the way to the truth.”

Kevin looked over to Young intently, trying to decide if that had been a pointed comment or if it was just a coincidence.

“Write a sermon,” Young said, placing a gentle hand on Kevin’s shoulder and giving him a gentle smile. “Take as many years as you need to find the words, but write them all the same.”

Young withdrew his hand and then withdrew himself. He had made it to the last of the pews before Kevin managed to speak. “Bishop Young?” he called out, stopping the suited man in his tracks. “How do I know when it is right to forgive?”

The bishop smiled, practiced and kind. “When you no longer need your pain.”

“Thank you, Bishop Young.”

“See you on Sunday, Brother Price.”

Then Kevin was once again alone in the chapel. He deeply suspected that he was no better off now than he had been when he had entered the building, but he somehow felt less fitful in mind. He was still confused. He still didn’t know the truth. But he had satisfied that seed in himself that had been planted by his parents by way of faith and so at least his wavering beliefs were subdued once more, even if the result was only more questions.

But for one as disconnected from faith as Kevin, he knew it could not last long. He still needed answers and it seemed as though there was no possible way to get them. He was uncertain what had happened at the party that night. He was uncertain as to what the future would bring. But if one thing in all the world was certain, it was that he hated Connor McKinley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the unnecessary narration, but don't you worry, next chapter Connor comes back and there's a lot of unnecessary dialogue instead! Yeah...
> 
> When I was in school there was actually a Church of the Latter Day Saints just down the street from my house, but I didn't realize it until a week before I moved out. Four years. Not a clue.
> 
> Also leave comments! I like knowing what you're thinking! Please, my crops are dying!
> 
> -G


	7. Kevin Price Visits the Costume Shop

Logan sneezed.

“Can you not do that right next to me?” Grant said. “I don’t want to get sick.”

“I’m not contagious anymore, it’s just allergies.”

“Doesn’t matter, just do it in the other direction. If I’m throwing up tomorrow it’s gonna be your fault.”

“If you do get what I had, and you won’t, then you won’t be throwing up. It’s just a load of sneezing and chills.”

“Then it’s not a flu, is it, it’s a cold. You said you had the flu, but it’s only the flu if you’re throwing up. Sneezing is a cold.”

Kevin rolled his eyes from where he stood across the room, rearranging the air plants they had just gotten in. Arnold had managed to keep Kevin out of school for only two days before Kevin had made the executive decision to start attending class again. Staying home had been a good way to get caught back up, but it was boring and he was missing valuable lecture material.

Things at home had mostly fallen back into place, the only remnants being a fading layer of tension over the apartment. Kevin still thought about what had happened probably more than he ought to, but he was getting better at hiding his troubled mind and Arnold was getting caught up again in his own life. Returning to work was the last step to maintaining that façade of normalcy.

Logan sneezed again and Grant audibly groaned. “I’m going on my break,” he said pointedly. “Take a fucking Claratin or something, you work with flowers for Christ’s sake.”

He disappeared through the doorway to the back and Logan waited for him to leave before saying to Kevin, “What’s up with him?”

Kevin shrugged. “Don’t know. I think he just doesn’t like you.”

“Nice of you to say, Kevin. Is everyone in a bad mood today? Seems like everyone’s got a short fuse.”

“Nah, I just haven’t been sleeping well,” Kevin muttered as he returned to the counter where Logan was relaxing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s cool,” Logan replied, playing with the store business cards as Kevin busied himself straightening out flower pots. “You’re right, he doesn’t like me. Guess I just forgot in the week I was away.”

“Week and a half.”

“Week and a half, then.” He leaned back in his seat to watch Kevin bustle about. It often felt like Kevin was the only one who did any cleaning in the shop, everything falling into disarray during the time he was absent, leaving it up to him to tidy up every Friday. But possibly he just had higher standards than the others. Admittedly, it was difficult to tell what was out of line when there was a forest of leaves in the way. “You want to take a break too, Kevin? There’s no one here, I could take care of it. Take a nap in the back or something.”

“No, it’s okay, I’d rather be doing something.”

“Then you chose the wrong profession.”

“It’s not a profession, it’s just a job.”

“You’re starting to sound like Grant,” Logan said, crossing his arms. “You gonna start calling me White now like he does? Should I call you Price?”

“I’m just saying I’m not going to be stuck in this shop for the rest of my life.” The orchids were looking a little dry, so Kevin filled up a watering can and set to work remedying the issue.

“Did Grant talk to you about that guy?”

“Guy? What guy?”

“He was telling me earlier there was some guy in here looking for you this week.”

Kevin froze. Connor. It had to be. “Did he say his name?”

“Maybe? I don’t remember, he started lecturing me about something to do with fertilizer. You should probably go ask him, might be important.”

“No,” Kevin said quietly as he resumed watering. “No, it’s fine, I think I know who it was.”

Connor had been looking for him. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, the young man had continued to text Kevin throughout the week. The only response he had received was a curt ‘leave me alone’ from Kevin, but the discontinuance of the messages didn’t mean he would have stopped trying. Connor didn’t seem like the type to give up on a person easily.

“You just live in your head, don’t you?” Logan said, straightening his apron as he stood. He shuffled around the counter and strode to the glass storefront where he looked out to the sunny street outside. “If no one shows up, d’you think they’ll let us close early?”

“It’s just cold out,” Kevin replied, stowing the watering can away. “It’ll get warmer and people will show up.” Kevin stood for a moment, looking around at the array of colourful flora, immune by now to the powerful scent that filled the shop. “Did Grant tell that guy when my shift was?”

Logan fondled a fern leaf distractedly, hand in pocket. “I dunno. Go ask him.”

Kevin chewed on his lip. He had decided not to worry about Connor all that week (not that it had stopped him), but under the weight of that anxiety, the possibility that Connor might walk in at any moment looking for him, it was impossible to put the thoughts out of his mind.

“I’ll be right back,” he said.

Grant was eating when Kevin walked in, something mushy and gross out of a Tupperware container. “Hey, Grant, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

The usual sweat and foot smell of the break room was overpowered by whatever it was Grant was shoveling into his mouth so Kevin remained just outside the doorframe.

“Logan said someone’s been in here looking for me?”

“Mm!” he said around a mouthful of food. “Yeah, that lily guy the one with all the roses. You remember him, right? Red hair? Sweater?”

“Yeah. Did you tell him when I’d be here?”

“Yeah I did. He said he’d be here sometime today. Hey Price, what’d you do to the guy, he seemed real upset about something?”

“Don’t let him in here,” Kevin commanded, and Grant shot him a look of consternation.

“What d’you mean? Why not?”

“Just trust me on this, okay? Don’t let him in, I don’t want to see him.”

Grant looked Kevin up and down, a furrow in his brow, and then he laid down his fork. “He didn’t look like trouble. Do you know the guy?”

Before Kevin could respond there was a call from the main room. “Hey Kevin!” Logan shouted. “There’s a guy here for you!”

Cold dread washed through Kevin. There was nothing he could do. If he called out to Logan to get rid of him then Logan and Grant might become suspicious, more suspicious than Grant already was. He couldn’t make a break for it because Logan had already told Connor he was there. He couldn’t stay put, silently waiting it out, because Grant was already giving him a strange look for the pause he was fostering and sending Grant out to take care of it for him was out of the question for various reasons.

There was only one option left, or only one that he could see, so with his heart beating in his throat, Kevin called out, “Yeah!”

Grant looked at Kevin, eyebrows raised and said quietly, but in earnest, “You want me to get rid of him?”

“No,” Kevin answered. “No, it’s fine, I should- I should handle this.” It didn’t feel fine. In fact, Kevin’s head felt like it was floating as he walked out into the main room and a pulse of something dreadful rang through his skull the moment he laid eyes on Connor’s eager face.

The redhead’s eyes lit up as Kevin approached, desperation etched in all his features. “Kevin!” he said, surging forward. Kevin jerked back, like he had been pushed by a force field around Connor, and he was so focused in on the horrible feelings inside himself that he didn’t notice the odd look his movement earned from Logan. “Kevin,” Connor said again, calmer, holding up his hands to show he meant no harm. “I just want to talk to you. I need to know what happened. Nobody knows what happened!”

Trying to control his breathing, Kevin took in a deep breath and said, softly, “I need you to leave.”

“Kevin,” Connor said, a word of distress and hurt. “Kevin, please, what did I do? I don’t remember! You can’t just leave me in the dark like this!”

Logan sidled up to Kevin, arms crossed and deeply concentrated on the conversation he was witness to. “Is everything okay? Do you need me to do something?”

“No, he’ll leave,” Kevin replied and Connor had a look on his face like something inside of him had broken.

“Kevin, I just want to talk,” he said, almost a whine. “I promise, I don’t have any ulterior motives, I don’t have any intentions, I just want to know, I’ve been worried sick.”

“It’s none of your business,” Kevin said coldly, pushing past Connor. He set about straightening the already pristine orchids, determined to maintain the shop as his grounds, his territory. As long as he was in here he was safe, immune to Connor because Connor had no claim.

“No, it is my business!” Connor called out. Then he gave a self-conscious look to Logan and hurried over to speak to Kevin more privately. “It is my business because Arnold said it was just me in there with you. I was the only one there when you- when something happened. I need to know what it was because I cannot carry this guilt with me if I did nothing to earn it.”

It was almost satisfying to hear Connor admit to feeling guilt for the situation, Kevin certainly blamed him. But having him there was still setting nerves alight down his spine in the most terrifying way and Kevin wanted nothing to do with him.

“If you’re not going to buy anything then you need to leave.”

“If I buy something will you talk to me?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the point?” he yelled.

The commotion had drawn Grant out of the break room and he was leaning against the counter, watching intently alongside Logan. Their presence was less than ideal and Kevin suddenly wished he had run out the back when he had had the chance.

“Sir, if you don’t calm down, then I’m going to have to call the police,” Kevin threatened in his most authoritative voice.

Connor was taken aback, but only for a moment. Finally he sighed and said, “Fine, I’ll buy something. 15 roses. Single. Dethorned. They’re in the back, right?” He grabbed Kevin’s arm (over the sleeve, but still it sent a shock through his skin) and dragged him across the room and through into the back. Logan and Grant followed, sticking close to the outskirts of the room, but no less invested in their coworker’s struggle. Casting them an annoyed glance, Connor continued through the back door into the alleyway, pulling the struggling Kevin along after him. Once the door at shut he allowed Kevin to pull himself free.

“You’ve got some nerve!” Kevin yelled.

“There. We’re alone. Now will you tell me what happened?” Connor said, clearly agitated and emanating desperation.

Kevin looked at him, mouth slightly open, ready to refute and yell and tell him to get lost. But what would have been the point? Connor was clearly not going to give up. “I told you to leave me alone,” Kevin seethed. He never thought he could hate this much. It bubbled under his skin and heated his neck, and the fear and anxiety that was always his constant took a backseat.

“I can’t do that,” Connor replied, visibly attempting to calm himself. “I can’t just act like nothing happened. I’m so… scared, Kevin, that I did something bad. You were always so nice to me and now suddenly it’s like I’m the origin of all evil. I can’t live with that, with the fear that maybe I did something bad and wrong to someone I cared about.”

“You don’t care about me, we’ve only known each other a week,” Kevin spat.

“Two weeks, actually.”

“One week at the time.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Connor threw his hands up and looked around at the backs of the buildings around them like they might have an answer to how he was meant to deal with this. “I would never,” he began, stepping forward, “ever do something knowingly wrong to someone, whether I cared about them or not. I would never act in a way that intentionally went against what that person was comfortable with, but I know, I know, I do stupid shit when I’m drunk. I walk that edge sometimes when I’ve been drinking, and I need to know what I did to you because I cannot live with myself when I can only assume the worst.”

Kevin regarded him for a long moment, the way his perfect hair was beginning to fall out of shape, the way his perfect clothes were becoming rumpled in his frantic movements, the way the scent of the store clung to him and mingled with his own sweet cologne. Still so put together, always so perfectly pieced together. Artificial. He never left that definition.

But there were bags under his eyes, and there was a desperation in his gaze that Kevin had never seen in anyone, let alone someone as carefully constructed as Connor McKinley. If what Kevin remembered was real, that light, the meaning behind it, then Connor would have been feeling every moment of Kevin’s distress. And he would have had no idea where it was coming from. The feedback loop, but one in which only half of the pair was aware it existed. But he couldn’t trust it. He couldn’t rely on that memory so long as he didn’t have all the facts.

“Did you put something in my drink that night?” Kevin asked flatly.

A look of horror came over Connor’s face, overriding the misery. “No! No, I would never do that, ever! Why would you think-“

“How much did Arnold tell you?”

Connor frowned, eyes wide, and he swallowed as his brain shifted gears, trying, no doubt, to find his ground. “He told me… He told me you were in hospital. He told me I was the last person you were with before he found you. I don’t- he didn’t say anything else, he just asked if I knew what had happened. That’s all.”

Classic Arnold, Kevin thought with a roll of his eyes, not a drop of affection in the motion. No wonder Connor was so worked up over it, he had no reason not to be. “I had a panic attack,” Kevin said quietly. Connor’s shoulders dropped and he let out a breath, but lost none of his distress. “We were talking and you kissed me and I had a panic attack and ran away. I passed out in the street because I was hyperventilating, that’s why I was in the hospital.”

“Oh, Kevin,” Connor breathed. “I’m so, so sorry. I never meant-“

“I didn’t say no, I- I wanted to kiss you, Connor, it’s not your fault.”

Connor frowned then, his mind putting things together as it slowly came out of panic mode. “Why did Arnold text me, then? Why wouldn’t you just tell him?” A look of realization came over his features and fell into a face of empathy that Kevin just despised. “Kevin, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s perfectly normal.” He took a step forward and Kevin instinctively took a step back. “Wanting to kiss me is nothing to be embarrassed about. I know the Church says it’s bad, but it’s not, and I know I haven’t known Arnold for as long as you have, but I can tell he’s not the kind of person-“

“He knows I’m gay, Connor,” Kevin hissed. “That’s not why I didn’t tell him. In fact, if he knew, he would be thrilled.”

“Then what… Why wouldn’t you, then?” Connor asked, looking genuinely baffled. “If he doesn’t care, why would it matter? Is it because of how you reacted?”

This was going nowhere fast. Connor had all the information he had wanted, but now he was just being nosy and Kevin didn’t like it one bit. He had felt obligated to rid Connor of his guilt once he knew the extent, but he had no viable reason to give for his secrecy. To top it all off, he knew that once the conversation was over he would have to face Logan and Grant again and any questions they may raise, and Kevin just didn’t have the energy left for it anymore.

“Like I said,” Kevin replied tiredly. “It’s none of your business.”

“Kevin, if you need any support, if you ever want to talk to somebody-“

“Don’t do that!” Kevin exclaimed, the familiar phrase sending some new kind of discomfort billowing in his stomach. “Don’t act like you want to help me with this shit, I don’t need your help!”

“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to figure this all out.” Connor looked deflated, the endless guilt he had claimed to suffer over the past week falling away and leaving him drained. Kevin couldn’t help but feel a little responsible. One quick lie a few days earlier could have saved him a lot of trouble, but instead he had chosen to avoid the confrontation like he always did. Perhaps he owed it to Connor to give him some truth.

“You’re just trying to help, I get it,” Kevin muttered, running a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out what the best course of action would be.

As it stood, he was the only one who knew what had happened. He was the sole owner of this devastating information and he had the option to share it with someone it directly concerned. It wasn’t really a question of ‘Does Connor need to know?’ so much as it was a question of ‘How long can Kevin do this by himself?’ If past events were anything to go by, Kevin didn’t operate well on his own. Things had a tendency to go wrong when Kevin tried to hoard responsibility for a situation. And if he had been more present of mind, he might have been able to admit that he was rather curious about the whole thing. It was a unique situation to be sure.

The point that finally convinced him to tell Connor was the thought that if Connor knew then he would be just as scared and confused and Kevin was. If ignorance was bliss then Kevin didn’t want Connor to be ignorant.

‘You did this to me,’ a spiteful part of his mind growled. ‘You deserve to suffer.’

“I need to talk to you in private,” Kevin said, his glare met with wide and weary eyes.

“We are in private,” Connor said blankly.

“Somewhere else. I can’t risk someone being around.”

“The library? I’m working there both days this weekend.”

Kevin shook his head. “Too public. Same for our apartments, Arnold and Chris might be around.”

An idea dawned on Connor and he said, “The costume shop. If you’re there at the right time it’s empty, no one can get in without the keys.”

“And you have the keys?” Kevin asked cautiously.

“Yes, I can get us in next week. I’m working in there on Tuesday so it’s the perfect opportunity. Shop hours are from noon to three, but if you come in just before three I can lock us in and no one else will be around.”

“I’m free then.”

“What is this about, Kevin?” Connor asked. “Why can’t you just tell me here?”

“Something else happened that night,” Kevin said, glancing back at the door, keeping his voice down just in case. “Something no one else can know about. It’s why I didn’t tell Arnold, it’s why I’ve been avoiding you. It’s something too delicate to tell you where someone might hear.”

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked like he wanted to ask another question, but Kevin was getting tired of this and he needed to go back in before someone came out to look for him. “I’ll tell you on Tuesday,” he said, “Don’t come back here.” Then he turned and went back through the door, leaving Connor alone in the alley.

He dismissed the questions of his coworkers, saying he was fine, everything was fine, the situation was handled and would not longer be an issue. The rest of the day he spent in silence, Logan and Grant kept at bay by the cold aura he was radiating, and after a few hours more he told them he was going home early, claiming he wasn’t feeling well.

The rest of the weekend went by significantly smoother. Kevin felt better, inexplicably calmer about the whole situation, perhaps because of the knowledge that it was about to be not just his secret or possibly because Connor had calmed down. He wasn’t sure how to measure the effect Connor was having on him, having grown up with the knowledge of only one soulmate, how was he meant to tell them apart in his mind?

But of course he still didn’t have definitive proof. He had the memory, he had Connor’s word that he hadn’t done anything to his drink, but he still had a smudge of doubt. What if he had just imagined it? What if it was all in his head and he had made a big deal over nothing?

These concerns swirled in his mind as he entered the theatre building on Tuesday. The trepidation had been bad enough to distract him entirely from his lecture and seminar earlier in the day and Arnold had been making cautious remarks all weekend in an attempt to glean any sort of information on why Kevin was feeling the way he was.

A young-looking student directed him through a set of doors and down some stairs into a short hallway at the end of which were another set of doors. Through the windows he could see tables of sewing machines, a wall of fabric cubbies, and drawers upon drawers no doubt containing more sewing materials. Pushing his way through, he found the room empty and heavily scented like the elderly. It was dimly lit, clearly prepared to be locked up for the night, and carried an odd sense of seclusion. Another door to his left opened and Connor appeared looking surprised, but back to his pristine self.

“I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t show up,” he breathed.

“It’s only five to three.”

“I know, but I was still worried.” He tried and failed to smile before walking around Kevin to lock the doors. “Welcome to wardrobe,” he said, turning around to display a brand new fake smile. “I’m sorry it couldn’t have been under better circumstances.”

“You bring guys here often?”

“No, I just… I don’t really know what to say, Kevin,” Connor admitted, looking extremely conflicted. “I just really want to know what’s going on.”

Kevin nodded and looked around the room. “What’s through that door?” he asked, indicating the door Connor had entered from.

“Costume storage,” Connor answered. “No one’s going to come through there, I can promise you that.”

Kevin nodded again. “How’s your lily doing?”

“It’s dead, Kevin, what’s this all about?”

Kevin forced himself to look at Connor. He was feeling scared and nervous and something close to hatred all at once and he could not tell what Connor was feeling. That was the worst part, having the knowledge that by all accounts he was connected to this person on a spiritual level, but that he could do nothing with it. It was painful and wrong and he just wanted to know. And, oh, how he hated Connor for making him feel this way, for interrupting his life like this. He didn’t know how Connor felt, but he knew how he was about to feel.

“Hold out your hand,” Kevin instructed.

Connor looked confused, but he did as he was told and held out his hand, palm up. Such perfect skin, not a trace of callous or cuts, hands that never touched work they didn’t need to. Kevin stepped forward, closing the distance and keeping a wary eye on Connor. His own hands were different. His nails were perpetually filled with soil, his skin often stained green or yellow from the plants he cut, healing paper cuts littered his fingers, and his palms were stippled with scabs from his fall on the pavement. Balance.

He raised his own hand and hesitated for only a moment before bringing it forward to touch his fingers to the palm of Connor’s hand. It was almost sorrow he felt when the light swelled up. It was green and vibrant and beautiful, swirling across their forearms, lighting up their eyes, and setting a pit of despair in Kevin’s stomach. There was no denying it anymore. Here it was in front of him, the proof he had been missing, and as his face fell, Connor’s eyes widened in amazement.

“That’s impossible,” he whispered.

Kevin retracted his hand, not wanting to have to look at that traitorous light anymore.

“That’s impossible,” Connor repeated, louder.

“I know it’s impossible,” Kevin said, shoving his hand into his pocket and looking anywhere but at Connor.

“But Arnold and Chris,” Connor said looking deeply confused. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“That’s why I couldn’t tell Arnold what happened,” Kevin said, wandering over to one of the sewing tables. He inspected the sewing machine as he spoke, prodding at the tiny mechanisms. “I couldn’t risk him freaking out and telling someone. I couldn’t risk being wrong either. I thought I might’ve imagined the whole thing.”

“Well clearly you didn’t,” Connor exclaimed. “No wonder you had a panic attack, this is huge!” He appeared in front of Kevin and slumped down into the chair opposite. “What are we going to do?” Connor asked, leaning his elbow on the table.

“We’re not going to do anything,” Kevin replied, withdrawing his hand from where it had been exploring a small thread compartment.

Connor looked up at him in disbelief. “We have to do something,” he said. “We can’t just not do anything, this is life changing. This has never happened before. No one in the world has a second soulmate.”

“And that’s why we need to keep our mouths shut,” Kevin told him, shooting Connor a piercing gaze. “If someone finds out about this it could wreck our entire lives. I’m not about to give up on everything I’ve worked for for this.”

Connor stared at him in astonishment as Kevin left the table to examine the fabric stored in the cubbies. “We need to find out why this is happening,” he claimed. “This is some sort of anomaly or a miracle, we have to go to someone.”

“It’s a mistake, Connor,” Kevin said, running his fingers along a bolt of deep blue rayon. “It’s nothing more than a mistake. Somebody messed up somewhere and stuck us together when we already have soulmates. We managed to avoid it for 20-odd years, we can just drop it and forget it ever happened.”

“Forget it happened?” There was the sound of a chair scraping on the floor and footsteps as Connor came up behind him. “I’m not just going to forget I’ve got another soulmate, Kevin, are you insane? We’re tied together, do you know what that means? This is forever. This is eternity. We’re innately connected to each other for the rest of our lives, you can’t just walk away from that.”

“I can do whatever I want,” Kevin said softly. “I don’t need another soulmate.”

Hands landed on Kevin’s shoulders and forced him to turn around. “You can’t walk away from this, it isn’t just about you, Kevin,” Connor said, standing closer than Kevin would have liked. “I’m a part of this thing too. I’m not going to stand by and let you throw this issue away like it’s not important.”

“And I’m not going to let you ruin my life!”

“I’m not ruining your life!” He grabbed Kevin’s hand and raised it so that they could both see the green light flowing out of them. “This isn’t ruining your life!” Kevin yanked his hand away and backed up into the cubbies. “We would have found each other no matter what, this was always going to happen. Just because it wasn’t in whatever plan you had for yourself doesn’t mean it’s not your problem. I spent too much of my life running away from my problems to let you run away from this one for me.”

Kevin looked up at Connor in distrust, rubbing his sore hand and trying to sort out his bruised feelings. Connor, for his part had closed his eyes and was breathing deeply, like he was trying to control something inside of himself, and when his eyes opened he seemed significantly calmer.

“At the very least,” Connor said gently, “we owe it to Arnold and Chris to let them know.”

“I don’t know…”

“We do. If we’re involved then they’re involved, that’s how soulmates work, in case you forgot. And for all we know, this… thing connects all four of us.”

Sharp terror shot through Kevin at the thought of Arnold being connected to anyone but him, of being connected to Chris as well, of going from just one soulmate to three, but his memory quickly caught up and banished the feeling. “You shook Arnold’s hand when you met,” he said, the relief thick in his tone. “And I’m pretty sure I’ve touched fingers with Chris at some point, he’s made me a lot of coffees.”

Connor didn’t appear consoled by the information, but he said, “Good, that’s good. But this still concerns them. Chris has been worried about you too, you haven’t been at the coffee shop in a week. I told him what Arnold told me too and-“

“You what?”

“-and he’s going to want to know you’re okay.” The gaze between them was intense, Kevin struggling to maintain it, and he ran his fingers over the fabric behind him as a sort of distraction. Connor glanced down at the motion and took the cue to step back a little, finally letting Kevin breathe. “I told him some of what you told me on Friday, but I also told him we were meeting today. What am I supposed to say?”

“Lie.”

“And why should I do that?”

“Because if you tell Chris then I have to tell Arnold and I can’t do that.”

Connor gave him an inquisitive look. The fabric beneath his fingers was rough. “Why can’t you tell Arnold? You’ve told me.”

“Because this was about you,” Kevin tried to explain, his own thought processes not making much sense even to him, but damn if he wasn’t going to stick to them. “Arnold has nothing to do with this, neither does Chris. They’re worried about us, yeah, but they’ll get over it. But if we tell them what’s really going on it changes everything. Arnold’s terrible at keeping secrets, he’ll just blurt it out to Nabulungi or some stranger on the bus, he’s no good at it. And I don’t want them… worrying over me. I hate it when people worry about me.”

“No one’s going to worry about you,” Connor said.

“What else would they do? Here’s this guy who’s so fucked up he needs two soulmates. What other way could you interpret this? Bishop Young said-“

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Connor interrupted, shutting his eyes tight and pursing his lips, hands raised. “I don’t care what your bishop says. I don’t care what his religion thinks about this.”

“It’s my religion too.”

“Only barely. You don’t even believe in God! You said so yourself. You also said you were thinking of going into the Church so let me know how that contradiction works itself out. Mormonism knows shit about this, no one does, it’s unheard of. And in case you’ve forgotten, Mr. Valedictorian, you’re not the only fucked up kid with two soulmates. How do you think I’m handling this right now? Here’s a fucking hint: I’m not.” He let out a frustrated noise and walked away, hands on his head and face to the ceiling. “I should have graduated last year,” he muttered as he paced the darkened room. “I should have just taken the pass degree, who needs this honours crap. It’s just another word on a sheet of paper, it doesn’t even make a difference.”

“It took you five years to get an honours degree?” Kevin said softly.

“I failed a couple classes, so what. I had some health problems last year, it was unavoidable.”

Kevin watched Connor pace the floor, waving his hands in small circles with his eyes closed in an attempt to settle himself, and he felt… remorse. Now wasn’t that a fine turn of events: he felt remorse for the person who had started the whole thing. It was an uncomfortable sensation of ambivalence to feel both anger and guilt towards this boy, and he groaned inwardly at his own kind heart. Why couldn’t he be stone cold? Stupid emotions, who invented them anyways?

“I don’t want to tell Arnold about this yet,” Kevin said, crossing his arms.

Connor continued his motions, but when he spoke his voice sounded composed. “We’ve got to talk to somebody,” he said. “Even if it’s not them, we need to know why this is happening and how to deal with it. I cannot handle this on my own and you apparently can’t handle it at all.”

“Hey!”

He came to a halt in the middle of the room and opened his eyes. “We’ve got to tell somebody,” he said. “I have questions. But you won’t talk to Arnold and Chris.” Kevin realized Connor was simply thinking aloud and put aside his urge to argue. “We could tell a doctor, but I don’t have the money for that and it could be risky. Family is out of the question. We need…” He turned his gaze to Kevin and Kevin suddenly saw the fire in his eyes. “We need to talk to someone who’s been through this before.”

“But no one’s been through this before,” Kevin replied, frustrated. “That’s kind of the whole point, Connor.”

“No. No, you’re wrong. There is someone who’s been through this and I know exactly where to find them.”


	8. Kevin Price Gets Coffee

The café was slow that day, in a lull between the lunch rush and the dinner crowd, and it was pleasantly quiet in the bright afternoon light. Without a line, Kevin was able to grab a coffee in no time at all before joining Connor at their table. The bitter scent put a smile to his face. He had missed the café. In his bid to avoid Connor he had also abandoned his usual coffee spot and was forced to settle for other, lower quality chains. It was good to get back to his usual brew.

“It’s four in the afternoon,” Connor said as Kevin sat down.

“And?”

“And you’re drinking caffeine. Don’t you think that’s a little risky?”

“It’s a small, I’ll be fine.” He took a sip, even though it was still too hot, and hummed his appreciation to make his point. Connor didn’t respond to it, his eyes trained, instead, on the object of their interest.

Across the shop from them were three elderly women, each with a cup of tea and a half-eaten pastry in front of them, chatting quietly. They had to have been in their 70’s Kevin thought, and he wasn’t sure this plan was entirely thought through, but as Connor had told him on their way there, it was their only choice. No one else had ever gone through this before and they needed advice.

“You’re sure Chris isn’t going to show up?” Kevin asked, eyeing Connor carefully. He still resented him, but now they were partners in crime. Predestined and blah blah blah. No matter his feelings, he had to at least try to be civil.

“I’m sure, he’s got class today,” Connor responded distractedly.

“As long as you’re certain.”

“I am.”

“Because we can’t have him just waltzing in while we’re interrogating these old ladies.”

“He won’t and it’s not an interrogation,” Connor said, turning his attention to Kevin who was cradling his cup innocently. “We’re just asking some questions. We’re fans or inquisitive locals or medical students or something. They must get people asking questions all the time, they’re probably used to it.”

“And what if they get suspicious?”

“What’s with you and people getting suspicious? Why does it bother you so much for people to be interested in your life?”

“I have an image to uphold.”

“Well you can uphold that image by being nice.”

“I am nice,” Kevin argued, but Connor had already diverted his attention back to the trio.

“Do you know what you’re going to ask?” he asked.

“Kind of,” Kevin replied, tapping his fingers nervously on the paper sleeve of his drink. “I have a general idea of the topics, but I’m not entirely sure… what I want to know.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They sat there for a moment longer in silence, Kevin drinking his coffee slowly and Connor ignoring him entirely. Kevin was about to get worried that the women would leave before they got the chance to talk to them before Connor turned back to him and asked, “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Kevin confirmed. Then they gathered their courage from their shared gaze and stood before making their way over to the other table.

“Excuse me,” Connor said gently, wearing that smile Kevin was never certain of. “My name is Connor and this is my friend Kevin. We were wondering if we might ask you a few questions.”

Kevin bit back the impulse to say they weren’t friends and the women looked up at them, slightly startled.

“Oh, hello young man,” said one of the women. “It’s been a while since anyone asked us questions, isn’t that right?” She cast a look about at her companions and they both nodded and smiled.

“We had that nice girl last month, I think,” said one of the others. “A school project on local history. Oh, but she didn’t even know who we were, she just thought we were old!” The three of them laughed and Kevin and Connor smiled.

“Take a seat, please,” said the third woman, gesturing to the one empty chair at their table. “We would be happy to answer your questions. Not a lot of excitement these days.”

Connor glanced back at Kevin before pulling back the chair, clearly intending for Kevin to take the seat. But instead Kevin pulled over a chair from a neighbouring table and Connor sheepishly sat down himself.

“My name is Claudia,” said the first woman. She was wearing a vibrant red dress and matching lipstick that wasn’t filled in quite right. “This is Margaret and over there is Gurdeep.” The other two women said hellos.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Kevin said before Connor could.

“We hope you don’t mind us taking up your time like this,” Connor said, not one to be outdone.

“Oh, not at all,” Gurdeep said with a wave of her hand. She had a slight accent and a beautiful blue headscarf that matched her equally elegant skirt. “We don’t get up to much these days, it’s always nice to meet someone new.”

“Not a lot of people talk to us, they think we’re just wrinkled old biddies,” Margaret chuckled. “I’d only just gotten used to all the commotion before it was over.”

“Now, what are these questions about, my dear?” Claudia interjected. She seemed to be the natural leader of the three and Connor gladly turned his focus to her.

“We just wanted to know… what it was like,” Connor said, casting a glance to Kevin. “Having three soulmates, or rather two… Being in a group of three soulmates…”

Smooth. “How did you find out?” Kevin interrupted Connor’s stumbling. “No one in the world has multiple soulmates, how did you figure it out? How did you feel?”

“Now that’s not true,” Margaret said. “We aren’t the only ones. People always say we are, but there have been lots of cases.”

Connor and Kevin both sat up a little straighter, their interest firmly captured.

“Not lots,” Claudia disputed. “There have only been two other cases: one in Brazil, I believe, and the other somewhere in Russia.”

“No, Claudia, you’re thinking of Japan,” Gurdeep said with a self-affirmed nod. “The people in Russia was just a rumour, they were disproved. It was Brazil and Japan.”

“No matter the case,” Margaret said, “there were others. The media always said it was just us, but it was incorrect. I always said so.” Her words were slow and pronounced, like she was intent on being understood and it seemed that was her natural manner of speech.

Connor cast another worried glance to Kevin who simply took a sip of his coffee and looked around the room.

“We were the first, though,” Claudia told the pair. Her fingernails matched her dress and lipstick too. She must have deeply enjoyed the colour red. “It was just Gurdeep and I at first, she was an exchange student at my school. Pure luck! We happened upon each other in… what was it? Calculus? Home ec?”

“It was History, my dear,” Gurdeep reminded her. “American history. I was sat behind you and asked to borrow a pen. I don’t think we’d spoken a word to each other before then.”

“No we hadn’t. Complete strangers. Imagine our surprise!”

“I thought I was all alone,” Margaret butted in with her carefully enunciated words. “I didn’t have a soulmate until I was 25! Imagine that! Back then we didn’t have those programs to help you locate your soulmate, we had to do it all by ourselves, and oh! It took so long! I was nearly an old maid!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Margaret,” Claudia scolded. Then to Connor she said, “We got nine years to ourselves before Margaret found us. Gurdeep had to go back to India for two of them, but we kept in touch.”

“I came back the moment I was old enough, my parents were distraught!” Gurdeep said. “They kept asking ‘Why can’t she come to India? Why do you have to go?’ but I would have none of it. I had to be with Claudia, what else was I meant to do?”

“We lived together in Baltimore for five years until I got a job in Utah. We packed our things and came right over.”

“Good thing you did, too,” Margaret said. “I was beginning to think I had been abandoned!”

Patience was a lesson Kevin learned every day. It was a virtue and something preached at the churches he had grown up in. Currently it was being tested. “And you met in Utah,” he said. “What was it like?”

“It was surprising, I’m sure you know!” Gurdeep exclaimed.

“One year in Utah and I happened to stop for food on my way home one day,” Claudia said as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world. It should have been fascinating, but Kevin just wanted her to get on with it. “I was in line to get my food, sorting through my purse for my wallet, and I accidentally dropped something.”

“Your keys,” Margaret said definitively.

“No, it was my compact, I think. But I dropped it and Margaret happened to be standing in front of me in line. She picked it up and handed it to me and our fingers brushed.”

“I was thrilled!”

“You may have been, dear, but I was just absolutely taken aback! Another soulmate! Imagine that!”

“I couldn’t possibly,” Connor said at the same time that Kevin said, “That’s incredible.”

“Well, I took her home right away, didn’t stick around to buy any food-“

“It was your reading glasses you dropped” Margaret interrupted.

“I didn’t have reading glasses then, Margaret,” Claudia told her. “It was my compact. Now…” She turned back to the boys, both of whom were beginning to see this was going to be a longer conversation than they had intended. “Where was I… Oh yes! I brought her back home to Gurdeep and I showed her what had happened.” Absently her hand drifted over to Gurdeep’s hand and the gentle lavender light of their connection glowed between them.

“It seemed impossible at the time,” Gurdeep said. “No one had ever heard of such a thing and we were in complete shock. We didn’t know what to do!”

“So what did you do?” Connor asked intently.

“We called my mother!” Claudia said. “We called my mother and told her what had happened. She lived in… oh…Tulsa it must have been at the time, but she insisted on paying us a visit. Once she arrived she took all three of us to the doctor.”

“It was ridiculous, we were grown women,” Margaret muttered as she picked apart her muffin.

“She wanted to be sure nothing was wrong with us,” Claudia continued, ignoring Margaret. “The doctor confirmed we were perfectly healthy, but sent us to a specialist in Salt Lake City who studied soul connections”

“He hooked us up to all kinds of wires and asked personal questions,” Gurdeep said with a sneer. “What a horrible man, I still remember him.”

“He seemed perfectly nice to me,” Margaret said with her lips pursed.

“What did he find?” Kevin asked, desperate to find any information at all. This quest could not be a waste of time, he wouldn’t allow it.

“We were fine!” Claudia said with wide eyes. “He decided he wanted to do a study on us, since we were the only connection of our kind in the world at the time. What did he call us again?”

“A scientific marvel,” Gurdeep replied, taking a sip of her tea.

“No, the sciency name he made up for us. What was it?”

“Tripartite superanima,” Margaret said, the complex words sounding odd in her deliberate speech pattern.

“Tripartite superanima,” Claudia repeated in affirmation. “He decided we were interesting enough to be examined thoroughly, though it seemed pointless to me. But the world seemed to agree with him and his endeavor managed to make national news.”

“We were celebrities,” Margaret told them with delight. “We were on every talk show at the time, everyone wanted a piece of us.”

“There were rumours that we were faking it,” Gurdeep said. “People couldn’t believe what they were seeing. But for years we made appearances, talked to showmen, met real celebrities.”

“By the time it had all died down we didn’t know what to do with ourselves,” Claudia continued. “Gurdeep was married by then so she moved out and Margaret moved into her old room. Suddenly it was like we were nobodies again.”

“We were a fad,” Margaret explained. “They had little descriptions about us in magazines with pictures and everybody wanted to meet us until suddenly they didn’t.”

“What did the study find?” Kevin asked.

“I’m sorry?” Claudia said.

“The study that doctor was doing on you, what were the results.”

“He was a quack!” Margaret announced.

“He didn’t find anything we didn’t already know,” Claudia explained. “We were simply labeled a medical marvel and left at that. I don’t suppose there really was anything to find.”

“Did you ever talk to anyone else like you?” Connor asked. “You said there were others, did you talk to them?”

“Yes,” Gurdeep said slowly, pulling up the memory. “We met three lovely gentlemen from Japan. They were discovered a few years after we were dropped and got much less media attention than we had. At least in America.”

“They were so nice!” Margaret said. “I couldn’t understand a word they said, but they had kind faces.”

“We were invited onto a Japanese talk show,” Claudia said, “where we met them. A translator helped us, sweet woman, I’m still in contact with her. There were two more interviews in the States, but they were much more formal and hardly any fun. The poor group from Brazil went by with merely a paragraph in most newspapers. I suspect the public was getting tired of us.”

“Was it always three?” Kevin asked, setting his coffee on the table.

Margaret and Claudia gave him curious looks, but Gurdeep seemed to understand the question. “Yes, there were always three people. Or I’ve never heard of more at least. Anything is possible it seems.”

Kevin and Connor exchanged a look, uncertainty passing between them.

“And how long have you two boys been together?”

“I’m sorry?” Kevin asked, alarmed.

“Oh, or are you not soulmates?” Claudia said.

“We aren’t,” Kevin said at the same time as Connor said, “We are.” They exchanged another look, less amicable this time.

“Yes, we are,” Connor repeated, reaching over to pat Kevin’s hand letting out bursts of green that would make any argument by Kevin invalid. “Sorry, we only just found out last week and we’re still getting used to it.”

“Congratulations,” Margaret said firmly. “It’s a good time in life to find your companion when you’re still young. I’ve heard finding them too young can lead to problems.”

“Yeah, we’re lucky,” Connor said with his trademark smile. “I almost couldn’t believe it.”

“I know I couldn’t,” Kevin agreed sharply earning a warning look from Connor.

“Such nice boys,” Claudia said with a smile. “Is there anything else you would like to ask?”

“How do you deal with…” Kevin paused, trying to figure out the best wording. “How do you handle the… emotional aspect? Having that connection with two people, how do you balance that?”

Connor grimaced.

“You know, I’m not really sure,” Claudia said. “It’s been so long that it’s become second nature.”

“New for you, though,” Gurdeep said with a nod. “I still remember how it felt to find my first soulmate, it can be a very sudden experience. Hard to get used to at first. It will become easier, though, don’t worry. The mind is built for it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Margaret interrupted again. “You were eased into it. I went from zero to two, it was a nightmare!”

“Exactly, two!” Kevin agreed. He looked to Connor for support, but he was frowning down at the table, looking unexpectedly solemn. “Two soulmates is a lot of emotions, right? All that feeling, it’s got to be hard to process.”

“Therapy,” Margaret proclaimed. “We went to therapy.”

“Not at first,” Gurdeep added. “The fame prevented us from seeking help, but once it had all died down and we were forced to deal with the problems, the real problems, of being a group of three, we went to a therapist.”

“He wasn’t helpful,” Claudia said, looking unimpressed. “It was time that helped us. Time and patience.”

“Time and patience,” Kevin muttered. It didn’t sound very promising. As of yet, the full effects of Connor’s bond with him had yet to take hold, but he had no doubt that soon enough they would get the better of him. Having been so young when he and Arnold met, the memory of how long it would take was unreliable at best. He had very few memories of the early stages of their bond so it was extremely new territory for him. It would probably do to ask Connor at some point how he had dealt with the emotional bond upon meeting Chris.

“Nobody knows what it’s like,” Gurdeep sighed. “We can tell them, but it’s not the same as experiencing it.”

“It’s been so long, dear, I doubt any of us could say what it’s like for normal people either,” Claudia said. “We all only have our own experiences and none can say what anyone else’s will be like. I doubt even the three of us could say exactly what it was like for the other two and we’re in each others’ heads!”

The three laughed at varying degrees and Kevin supposed they were right. It was something he was just going to have to feel out for himself. Connor had been surprisingly quiet and though Kevin couldn’t really feel his emotions to a noticeable level he could certainly tell something was a little off. It was like smoke suppressing the oxygen in a room, heavy and dull and settled into the slump of Connor’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry we can’t be of more help to you in that department,” Claudia told him, drawing his gaze away from his soulmate. “Perhaps you should speak with your parents, I’m sure they would be able to help you get it sorted.”

“Of course.”

“Time and patience,” Margaret repeated, giving Kevin a wide-eyed look to make sure he was clear on it. “Nothing else for it.”

“Is there anything else?” Claudia asked.

“No, I think that just about covers it,” Kevin said. “Thank you so much, you were very helpful.”

“You’re very welcome, young man. It’s been lovely talking to you both. Now I think we had better be going. It’s getting late.”

Kevin glanced at a wall clock that read just short of five o’clock. Hardly late, he would say, but then the conversation had felt much longer than it had actually been. “It was nice to meet you all,” he said with his best customer service smile.

“And it was very nice to meet you boys,” Claudia responded. “Stop by anytime you feel like a chat. It gets rather boring just the three of us.”

“Only because we never go anywhere,” Margaret muttered as she stood up.

“And where would you like to go? The Andes?” Gurdeep asked. “We’re tired, Margaret. We’re old!” She turned her eye to the boys, sparkling. “And we’ve had enough excitement for one lifetime!”

The three women left shortly thereafter with another round of goodbyes and thank yous. Kevin, exhausted from listening to them talk seemingly endlessly, slumped in his chair and sipped at his coffee as Connor leaned forward on the table.

“Do you think that was helpful?” Connor asked, running a hand through his hair. The smoke had left him, but he still seemed subdued.

“Do you?”

Connor sat for a moment in silence before leaning his head on his forearms in defeat. “No,” came the muffled reply. “I really thought I would have more questions, I thought it might be helpful in figuring out what to do, but…” He sat upright and sighed. “I don’t know. I’m not any more uncertain than I was before, but that doesn’t mean I’m any better off.”

Kevin stood and switched to a seat opposite Connor at the table. “I would like to point out I really didn’t think it would make a difference in the first place.”

“Do you have to do that?” Connor asked. “Do you really have to do that? I’m trying, Kevin, but you’ve got to work with me.”

“I haven’t done anything,” Kevin said, gazing around the room and anywhere but at Connor. “I’m being perfectly nice and honest.”

“No, you’re being a dick,” Connor said. “I get that you’re upset, but you don’t have to take it out on me.”

He took a sip of coffee.

“Hey guys,” said someone from behind Kevin.

He was about ready to enter full panic mode until Connor looked up and said, “Hi James.”

James rounded the table to stand between them, dressed in full uniform and grinning. “What’s goin’ on? Haven’t see you in a while, Kevin.”

“I’ve been sick,” Kevin lied.

“That’s too bad, man. I know there’s stuff going around right now, but I’ve been lucky. How about you, Connor, what’s happening?”

Kevin shouldn’t have been surprised Connor and James knew each other, after all, Chris worked there nearly five days a week and Connor was bound to drop in from time to time. But it still felt odd to have two distinctly separate areas of his life colliding in such a way.

“Not much, James,” Connor replied, smiling once again. Kevin was really beginning to dislike that smile. “You been busy here?”

Suddenly Kevin felt he was unable to stay. He couldn’t just sit around and have normal conversations like everything was okay, he couldn’t switch his brain around like that, not like Connor could. So he stood up, said quick goodbyes, and left, leaving the last of his coffee behind.

He didn’t make it far, sitting on one of the raised flowerbeds on the sidewalk just outside the neighbouring storefront, and he took a moment to let himself breathe. That was something he realized he had been missing that day. Between class, Connor, and the tripartite superwhatever women he had had absolutely no time to himself. It was nice to just sit and breathe in the city air and listen to the cars go by like everything might be normal without having to expend the energy pretending he felt normal to other people.

It didn’t last long. Before he knew it, Connor had sat down next to him and the tension in his muscles returned full force.

“You feeling okay?” Connor asked, studying Kevin’s face closely.

“No.”

“Yeah, it’s been one hell of a day, hasn’t it?” He didn’t speak for a moment and briefly Kevin thought that maybe for once in his life Connor would just sit in silence, but of course he wouldn’t. “You know when I said on Friday that you can talk to me about stuff? Well, I meant it, you know. You can talk to me.”

“We’ve been talking all day, Connor,” Kevin said through a tight jaw. “Right now all I want is some quiet and to be alone.”

Connor nodded. Cars glided by on the street behind them and though it was still young, the neighbourhood was shadowed by the lowering sun, making the air cool and the windows across the street shimmer orange. After a moment, Connor slipped off the bed to sit on the sidewalk and lean back against the concrete structure. Kevin closed his eyes and listened to the world around him, hoping he could ignore Connor if he couldn’t see him.

“I’m sorry,” Connor said quietly. “I don’t think I really did anything wrong, but… I’m sorry you feel like I did. I’m sorry it’s not easier.”

Kevin didn’t reply.

“When you asked those ladies about what they felt… Have you been feeling my emotions? Have you gotten that yet?”

Once again Kevin didn’t answer. After another long moment of silence, Connor stood up and brushed off the seat of his pants. He cast a look to Kevin and opened his mouth, but thought better of it and shut it again. Then he opened it once more and said, “See you around, Kev.”

“Bye, Connor,” Kevin replied without looking at him.

Once Connor had left, Kevin was hit with a wave of exhaustion. He had been so tense for so long, his body was getting too tired to keep it up. Summing up the last of his strength, Kevin stood too and walked the short distance home.

When he arrived through the front door he walked through a wall of scent. Something thick and savoury floating in from the kitchen. He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the couch, moving only when Arnold arrived with a plate of some new delicious dish that Chris had suggested to him. They watched Mars Attacks with their food and talked briefly about school and Nabulungi and the paper Kevin had said he was in the library that day to work on.

He hesitated on that lie. It was like he had lost the will to pretend to Arnold. Arnold could tell Kevin was tired and attributed it to all the work he had done that day, work that Kevin desperately needed to do, but didn’t really have the drive for in that moment. He sat there, hand clasped in Arnold’s, blue light flowing and wafting, and he wondered how many times he had lied to Arnold in the past week.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Sorry for what?” Arnold asked with a cautious smile.

“I haven’t been a very good soulmate to you in the past while… or… ever maybe.” Arnold started to argue, but Kevin stopped him. “You’re always there for me Arnold, you’re always so supportive. I’m sorry I’m not like that for you.”

“But you are, Kevin!”

“No, I haven’t been. I’ve been pretty shitty to you, actually. You only ever try to help and I just… yell at you or shut you out.”

“You’re sick, Kevin, you can’t help it. Your anxiety-”

“But I can,” Kevin disputed. “I pretend like I can’t because it’s easier than actually trying, but I’m not. You deserve better than me.”

Arnold considered him for a moment and then he released Kevin’s hand and pulled him into an awkwardly posed hug. “Kevin, you’re my best friend and the best person I could ever have asked for as a soulmate,” Arnold said into his ear, just a bit too loudly. “I could never have done any better than you.” He pulled back and smiled and Kevin only felt more heartbroken.

He spent the night trying to work and failing miserably. Feeling powerless wasn’t something he was used to. Looking back, he likely should have been used to it by then as it seemed to be a recurring theme in his life: nightly nightmares he was powerless to control, a demanding family who chose his life path for him, his entire experience in Uganda. His whole life was one big out of control mess and this was just one more thing that he had to live with passively and hope it didn’t make anything else worse.

And perhaps that was what had made him do it. Perhaps he was so used to doing nothing that he felt it his only remaining option. Had Connor been right? Was this something he needed to take control over? He was so used to being told what to do, but there were no set instructions for a situation like this. It was frightening. 

Falling asleep took hours and only lasted for one before he woke up again. His heart was racing, but the fear subsided quickly. He lay there on his side, staring into the darkness, wishing his life were different.

When Arnold entered Kevin sat up, feeling almost sick with the knowledge that there wasn’t a single thing he could do, and never had been, to make his existence into what he wanted it to be. He was trapped as he had been all his life. Nothing ever changed.

“Arnold,” he whispered as the bed shifted under his soulmate’s weight.

“Yeah, Kev?”

“Do you ever wish your life was different?”

“No.” He sat forward, trying to get a glimpse of Kevin’s face in the blue-dark of the bedroom. “I mean, sometimes. But I think life is pretty okay, y’know? On the whole.”

“Yeah…”

Kevin had never once in his life felt in control, but this was the first time he had ever truly felt powerless. And maybe he was powerless, but if Connor was right then it didn’t mean he didn’t have a choice.

He leaned over and turned on the lamp next to his bed, throwing a sharp amber light across the room and nearly blinding its occupants. Kevin had made the choice to tell Connor what was going on. He had changed the path of his life in that choice. Why had he done that? What had possessed him to invite the reality of the situation into his life? He had made them active participants of his own free will, and he was still hitting himself for that one, but it had been a decision.

There wasn’t anything stopping him from making another one.

“Arnold,” he said, tapping into his well of defiance, making bravery out of spite, “there’s something I have to tell you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm making a couple changes to the tags for this story because of the direction it's been taking lately. I've just started writing chapter 12 so I feel like the tags could use an update. At some point I may change the summary as well now that the plot is more apparent, but that's a solid maybe.  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> -G


	9. Kevin Price Goes to the Doctor

The four of them met up in Kevin and Arnold’s apartment. It had been a few days since Kevin had told Arnold about his bond with Connor and in that time there had been a lot of questions he had been unable to answer, but also a lot of support and unquestioning acceptance. It had been almost too easy in fact, and Kevin had to wonder if Arnold was just being supportive in case this was another breakdown, but he went with it, cautious, but hopeful.

When Chris and Connor arrived Arnold was just taking a tray of nachos out of the oven, his own recipe and one he was quite proud of. Chris and Arnold greeted one another enthusiastically and Kevin gave him a gracious smile. His expression to Connor was much more wary. Connor returned the look with a tense smile of his own and a nod.

Kevin had told Connor that Arnold now knew, but Chris was still in the dark as far as he was aware, so the mood from their companions was light. They all sat down in the living room, Arnold and Chris on the couch, Kevin on the floor, and Connor remained standing, the steaming pile of nachos dominating the coffee table.

There were a few minutes of gentle conversation, inquiries into health, into school, into work, the type of conversation held by people who didn’t know very much about one another. It was after this and after they all had plates of food that Kevin and Connor began the topic at hand.

Chris didn’t believe it. He blatantly refused to accept what they were telling him, laughing as though it were a joke and letting that laughter die away when he saw the serious faces surrounding him. It wasn’t until Connor held out his hand and Kevin reluctantly took it that their situation became real for them. Kevin couldn’t even look at the light, just watched as Arnold’s expression shifted from one of mild investment to one of pure shock. If he hadn’t believed before, he certainly did now.

“How is that possible,” was the question asked, one Kevin was growing tired of hearing. “We don’t know,” was the response, one he was getting tired of giving.

“What do we do now?” was the question they all asked. Silence was their answer.

The general consensus became that there were two possible courses of action: see a specialist or do nothing. Kevin, hating doctors and preferring life to stay as normal as possible, was the only one to remain on the side of ‘do nothing’ for the duration of their meeting, Chris being his only ally until he was argued out of it by Connor and Arnold’s insistence. He felt betrayed and annoyed, but didn’t bother to fight it. It was clearly something Connor deeply needed and so, as the matching set to that particular bond, he was essentially obligated to follow through.

To Kevin’s surprise, Connor and Chris already knew a specialist. “We had some trouble with our bond,” Chris told them. “Had to go into the program to find each other and then after there were some… problems.”

“He already has records of me,” Connor reasoned. “It’ll make it easier to figure it all out.”

“I thought you didn’t have the money for that,” Kevin muttered.

“He’s understanding, we can work something out,” Connor said assuredly, to which Chris nodded in agreement.

“He’s a nice guy,” he said, eating his way through half the nachos by himself. “He probably still remembers us too. We made a pretty big impression.”

Kevin wondered just what kind of impression they had made, but Chris went on to compliment Arnold’s nachos to which Arnold replied it was all about using multigrain chips, effectively ending the conversation.

It was brought up again as Connor and Chris were leaving, the pair promising to give their doctor a call and set up an appointment. It felt… good, Kevin decided, to have the weight of the issue in someone else’s hands for a change. For the first time in what seemed like ages, he was able to get quite a bit done on his schoolwork and even the bad dream didn’t seem so bad that night.

“You’re looking good today,” Logan told him the next morning. “Like, more awake. You looked like garbage last week.”

When he arrived, Grant confirmed that Kevin was looking better, asking if he had been eating healthier.

Kevin replied to both with a shrug and, “I’ve been getting more sleep, I guess.”

He felt better, if he was being honest with himself, and he decided it was a tribute to how bad he had been feeling for the past two weeks that the flowers in the shop were smelling particularly lovely that day. He felt refreshed.

He liked to think that he would have continued to feel refreshed if Connor hadn’t walked into the shop and interrupted his lunch.

“You’re not allowed back here,” he said around a mouthful of turkey sandwich. “You’re not even supposed to be in the store.”

“Your coworkers said it was okay,” Connor said, taking the only vacant chair in the room. “I told them we’d worked out the issue, promised we wouldn’t make a scene again. That one guy, Grant, is he always like that?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know… Dickish.”

“He seems okay to me,” Kevin said, taking another bite.

He heard Connor mutter something that sounded suspiciously like, “You would think that,” but when he asked, Connor just said, “Oh. Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“What do you want Connor?”

“I came to tell you we got an appointment with the specialist.”

“And it couldn’t be put in a text? Or wait until I got off my shift?”

“I was in the neighbourhood and you might not have seen a text until you got off work,” Connor said. “The appointment is for later today, I wanted to make sure you knew before you got home. Is this room always this disgusting?”

“Later today?” Kevin exclaimed, setting his sandwich down. “Connor, I need more time than that.”

Connor was looking around at the room with a repulsed sneer. “It smells like feet in here. It can’t be sanitary to eat in these conditions.”

“Connor. Focus.”

“Yes, sorry,” Connor said, diverting his attention back to Kevin. “It had to be today, it was the only opening he had until next month.”

“I could have waited until next month!”

“Or we could just go today and get it over with. Arnold told me you were free after work today so I went ahead and scheduled the appointment. We’re due there at five. You get off work at two, right?”

Kevin was dismayed by this total lack of consideration and tried to make his face express the fact as well as he could. “Yes and then I need to shower. I have other plans today. Just because I’m not going anywhere doesn’t mean I don’t have stuff I need to do!”

“You need to write an essay right?” Connor asked, unimpressed. “Get a new excuse, Kevin, that one’s old.”

“I get new essays, they come and go. I’m not just working on the same five year-round. I’m taking six classes, Connor, and they all require me to do readings and write essays.”

“And I have rehearsals and papers and group assignments. Doesn’t mean I can’t get out of the house once in a while.”

“I got out of the house once and it got me you for a soulmate.”

“Stop being so difficult, it’s just one appointment. We’ll be there and back before you know it.”

“And where is this specialist anyways,” Kevin asked, picking his sandwich back up, though he seemed to have lost his appetite.

“Salt Lake City. It’s just an hour drive.”

“Neither of us can drive. It’ll take longer on the bus.”

“Chris will drive us there,” Connor told him with a shrug.

Kevin looked at Connor hard. “Chris is coming? Is Arnold coming too?”

“Of course.”

There was one small mercy. At the very least, Kevin wouldn’t have to be alone with Connor for the whole trip. He would have liked time to prepare for the trip, both physically and mentally, but it seemed Connor would not be budged, so he sighed and begrudgingly agreed to the appointment. Connor smiled and Kevin rolled his eyes.

His shift still had three hours to go, so once Connor had left, Kevin donned his apron and entered the shop front again. There were a few customers sparsely distributed about the place and Grant was helping one or two with their various needs. Logan was stationed at the register and when Kevin entered he gave him an odd look.

“You doing okay?” he asked.

“Yeah?” Kevin answered, a little confused as to the sudden concern. Wasn’t it just a few hours earlier he was telling Kevin how good he was looking lately?

“I heard something back there about a doctors appointment,” Logan said. “You’re not coming down with something are you?”

“No, I’m fine. It’s just routine.”

Logan nodded and rapped his fingers against the counter. “How’s Arnold?” he asked.

Kevin gave him a questioning look. “He’s fine. How’s Qiunn?”

“She’s good. I think that couple over there needs help. Would you mind giving them a hand?”

“Yeah, sure,” Kevin replied, casting one last look at Logan before applying his customer service charm.

The day went slowly and without much fuss. The flowers had lost their appeal, but he had practice faking enthusiasm for them and had no trouble pretending to be invested in the clientele. By the time it was over he had very nearly forgotten about the appointment and groaned audibly when he found Connor and Chris sitting in his living room.

“We don’t have to leave for another hour or so,” Chris told him, “if you want to go have a shower or something.”

He very much wanted a shower, but being offered one felt too much like being told he stunk so the shower was taken unenthusiastically and without much ceremony. It was always a weird feeling to take a shower when there were other people in his home. Back when he lived with his parents even having family staying for the weekend was enough to put him off, but he risked it now for the sake of his skin and nose. His work clothes were put on for the trip across the hall, though, no need to chance being spotted in a towel.

Clean and dressed, he reentered the room and put up with casual conversation until the time came to pile into Chris’ car. It smelled a little funny and there were bits of trash and food wrappers littering the floor of the backseat that Chris told them just to kick under the front seats. It was spacious, though, and Kevin was grateful that no one appeared to expect him to take part in their conversation.

An hour later they were in Salt Lake City, pressing through traffic and trying to find a parking space. The office of the doctor they were seeing was in a large building that looked to be made of mostly windows and was surprisingly cozy inside. The waiting room was not dissimilar to the many Kevin had found himself in over the years and he found habitual anxiety was responding to it quietly in his gut.

They waited for nearly an hour in that waiting room and not a single person entered or left. It was just the four of them and the receptionist. The door into the office remained tightly shut, the plaque on the door reading Dr. Walter Edozie-Egbuna, looking formal and intimidating in the gently decorated space.

“So what’s this guy like?” Arnold asked Connor and Chris, voice hushed in the way that waiting rooms often cause.

“His name is Dr. E,” Chris told them. “He’s a really nice guy, used to dealing with all sort of people. When he helped me and Connor he was super understanding and patient, just, like, a real stand-up guy.”

“He’s also an excellent doctor,” Connor added. “He has an outstanding reputation in his field and he’s been doing it for a long time.”

Kevin wished he had been told the name the day before so he could have looked him up. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust the credentials, but it would be nice to know at least what the guy looked like, maybe read some of his research, get to know how his mind worked.

“My mom put me in the program when I was 17,” Chris explained. “I don’t really know how the whole thing works, but he found Connor, or his team did I guess. He’s in charge of the program in his district, but there’s a ton of people working it. Connor was up in Provo and we were a most-likely-match.”

“My doctor made me do the tests when I turned 18 and hadn’t found him yet,” Connor said. “So I wasn’t in the program, technically, but I was in the system.”

“Yeah, after, like, a year. I was sure they were never gonna find anyone.”

“Kevin and I lived right down the street from each other,” Arnold informed them chipperly. “Our parents were friends.”

“That’s such a weird coincidence,” Chris breathed. “Like you’ve got the whole entire world and you just happened to be-“

The door to the office opened and two young girls ran out with an older woman following slowly behind, calling for the two to slow down. The doctor emerged shortly after, a pleasant look on his face that put Kevin immediately more at ease. He looked to be somewhere in his 50’s and greying stubble covered his scalp, fading into the dark beard that sat well trimmed to his jaw.

“Hey, Dr. E,” Chris called out and the doctor turned a broad smile to the group.

“Hello Chris,” he replied in a gravelly voice. “And Connor too. It has been a long time. Are you boys due for an appointment again already?”

“Not exactly,” Connor said as the four of them stood up.

“Well come into my office and you can tell me what, exactly, it is.”

The office was decorated in grey scale, the large windows making it bright and airy, but far from corporate. They were on the fifth of six floors and one of the taller buildings in the low-lying city. Out the window was a clear view of the mountains and Kevin could see why many could believe it to be some kind of Promise Land.

“Take a seat, boys,” Dr. E said as he made himself comfortable behind his desk. “I’m afraid there’s only two chairs, but feel free to take the armchairs if you like.”

After some polite gestures and soft nods, Connor and Kevin took the chairs in front of the desk while Chris and Arnold claimed the armchairs across the room that were obviously used for less formal consultations.

“And who might you be, young man?”

“Kevin,” said Kevin. “My name is Kevin Price and over there is Arnold Cunningham.”

“Hello,” Arnold said.

“Very nice to meet you boys,” Dr. E said warmly. “ You can call me Dr. E if you like. Now what is it I can do for you today?”

Kevin looked to Connor and Connor swallowed. “Well, Dr. E,” Connor began, “we’ve been having a small problem that we’re not sure how to deal with.”

The next five minutes were spent explaining the situation to the best of their ability including a quick demonstration of the offending light, and Dr. E sat silently through it, looking focused. “That certainly is strange,” he said once they had finished. “I have to be honest with you boys, it’s not often we get cases like this. You say this started a week ago?”

“Yes, sir,” Kevin said.

“Interesting.” He reached into a drawer of his desk and pulled out a small piece of medical equipment that looked like an old-school recording device with wire-attached microphone. He rounded the desk to stand in front of the pair. “Please make contact.”

Connor and Kevin reached out at the same time and grabbed one another’s hand and Dr. E began waving the attached microphone-like piece through the light, looking intently at the box he held. “Kevin, have you had any feelings of outward influence beyond your connection to Arnold?”

“Um, no, not really,” Kevin replied, hazy on what was meant by ‘outward influence.’ “Do you mean have I felt Connor? Like his feelings? Because… no I don’t think I have. It’s kind of hard to say, though, I wouldn’t be sure how to tell.”

“It would be very similar to Arnold,” Dr. E explained, brow furrowing. He raised the device to sweep it over the skin of Kevin’s arm. “You may even have mistaken the feelings for his or your own.”

“I can’t say I’ve felt anything like that. But there’s not really any precedent for it is there? It’s never been felt before, so we couldn’t really know.”

“No, but we have to assume it would be similar to more common connections.” The device swept back through the light and up Connor’s arm, and Kevin tried to discern what he could from Dr. E’s expression, but there was no hint as to what he was seeing. “Connor, I know your history has specifically made this area problematic for you, but have you been having any feelings from Kevin.”

“No,” Connor responded.

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said, “but what history would that be.”

He looked to Dr. E and then to Connor. The former glanced at the latter as though for permission and the latter frowned slightly. “Chris and my connection,” Connor said slowly, “it’s a little… different from what’s normal.”

“Every soul connection is different,” Dr. E told them, bringing his device away. They released hands and Kevin looked to the doctor as Connor looked to Chris. “There are varying strengths in the connection, medically speaking, and it can result in different experiences for different pairs. Of course, the correlation between strength of connection the way in which the pair experiences it can be irregular. Connor and Chris have a good connection, not particularly strong, but not weak. Well within the norm. But there is a small block in the psychological portion that makes empathic communication difficult.”

“You can’t feel him?” Kevin asked Connor.

“No, I can,” Connor replied. “It’s just… difficult.”

“Arnold, would you mind coming over here for a moment?” Dr. E said. “Take Kevin’s hand, I’m just going to do some measurements.”

The device was swept through their blue light and the same look of concentration came over his face.

“Is that the trouble you guys were talking about yesterday?” Kevin asked Connor. “Is that why you had to see a specialist?”

“It’s not exactly normal, is it?” Connor said, sounding a little upset.

“What are you doing?” Arnold asked the doctor.

“I’m measuring the movement of energy,” he explained. “A lot of religions base beliefs on the spirituality of the connection, but it’s purely scientific.”

“Kevin and I were always taught it was holy,” Arnold told him. “The bonds are formed at the beginning of time and we find each other again in the afterlife.”

“You’re Mormon?”

“Kinda.”

“A lot of my patients are. It’s a fascinating system of belief, but it can make for a difficult clientele.” He smirked. “No one wants to be told their spiritual connection is actually just a scientific construct. There are elements about it that I suppose could be seen as spiritual, but it’s on the same level as consciousness: there’s a lot we don’t know about it, but we know it’s not magic.”

He pressed a few buttons on the box and wandered back behind his desk, humming thoughtfully to himself. Kevin tugged his hand back from Arnold and waited anxiously.

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” Chris asked from his armchair.

“Well we know it’s a genuine match,” he said, turning to his computer. He relayed some information from the machine to his computer as he spoke. “We’ve seen instances of pseudo-connections in which the light forms, but there’s no actual bonding of energy, just a burst of spontaneous phosphorescence as a result of anima activity. Usually those fade after a few days and are never accompanied by empathic communication, but there is a definite bond here. You two are most certainly soulmates.”

Hearing it come from a doctor’s mouth made Kevin slump down in his seat, weighted down by dread. “But how is that possible?” Connor asked insistently. “We already have soulmates.”

“Yes, you do.” Dr. E turned his attention back to them, an unreadable expression on his face. “In fact, Arnold and Kevin’s connection is strong, moderately higher than average readings. But this new bond is very strong; I’m extremely surprised Kevin hasn’t been feeling anything from you, Connor. It is possible this is an equipment malfunction or an anomaly, however, and I would like to get the two of you properly tested at a lab where the equipment can give us more definitive readings. A second opinion, I’m afraid, is all I can recommend at the moment.”

“Do you have any idea how something like this might have happened?” Kevin asked.

“I’m afraid not. There’s all sorts of anomalies and abnormalities in the world of medicine, genetic mutations that seem to come out of nowhere, developments that are entirely unpredictable. The best thing we can do right now is try to gather as much information as we can and hope it leads to an answer.”

The disappointment was palpable, but Connor sat forward in his seat anyways, listening intently to the instructions they were given, the names and suggestions that Kevin was missing due to the haze that had spread in his mind. It just kept going. None of this was ever supposed to happen. It was just meant to be some flirting, a short fling, perhaps a fun encounter at a party, it was never meant to be like this. He never wanted any of this. The anxiety was swelling in his chest and his heart was beginning to beat a little faster. It was like a low-level fire was smoldering in his gut.

A hand landed on his shoulder and Kevin looked up to find Arnold looking down at him with concern in his eye. Kevin smiled back reassuringly and placed his hand over Arnold’s, calming himself in blue. No matter what happened, he would always have Arnold. At least there was that.

“If he calls ahead like he said he would,” Connor said once they were all back in the car, “then we shouldn’t have a problem getting an appointment at the hospital within the next month or so. The sooner the better.”

Kevin looked out the window at the retreating city. “Do you think we should?” he asked. “We’re starting to get into lab rat territory here, which is something I would really like to avoid, and what could they really tell us?”

“I’m not sure,” Connor answered from the passenger seat. “But it’s worth checking out, don’t you think?”

No. He didn’t think. He wanted his old life back, thank you very much, and nothing they had done so far had gotten them anywhere. Why should he believe some fancy lab sticking him full of needles and wires would be any different. “Maybe,” he said.

“I think it’s really cool that you guys have this thing,” Arnold piped up next to Kevin. “It’s like something you’d read about but never think it would actually ever happen. It’s so exciting!”

“For you,” Kevin muttered. He sat forward in his seat and stuck his head in the front next to their travel companions. “So what’s this thing with you guys anyways, the empathy thing? What does it mean?”

“Connor and I have trouble feeling each other,” Chris replied with a glance over to him. He didn’t seem particularly distressed by it, but there was a crease in his brow that suggested it was a topic that wasn’t without its baggage. “It happens sometimes where the empathy is low even though the bond itself is okay. They don’t know what causes it, but it can make things a little hazy.”

“Hazy?”

“Like I can feel Connor, but… distantly. He’s there, but I can’t usually pinpoint what’s going on with him.”

“It’s a little worse from my end,” Connor said. “It’s almost like a blind spot. There’s something that’s meant to be there and I can feel there’s something there, but I wouldn’t be able to tell you it was Chris if I wasn’t already aware of it.”

“Wow, that’s so weird,” Arnold breathed.

“Arnold,” Kevin admonished.

“Sorry. But it is, though. I can’t even imagine not feeling you, Kevin. You’ve just always been there.”

“How long have you two been together?” Chris asked. “From what you said in the waiting room it sounds like it’s been a long time.”

“Yeah it has.”

“We met when we were three,” Kevin explained. “A play date. Our parents were thrilled.”

“We’ve always been together,” Arnold said proudly. “Best friends for as long as we can remember, right Kevin?”

“Yeah.” It was a lie, but not one he needed to correct. Not something he was in the mood to recount.

“Man, that sounds cool,” Chris said, sounding genuinely impressed. “I don’t know if I could’ve handled that as a kid. I was super moody as a tween, I don’t know what that would’ve done to another person.”

“Wouldn’t have done anything apparently,” Connor said wryly.

“Yeah I guess not.”

“Puberty wasn’t easy,” Arnold admitted. “All those mood swings and stuff, they were hard to keep up with.”

“Yeah, it was not pretty,” Kevin agreed. It hadn’t been. It had been ugly and horrible and he still felt guilty about it. But as always, Arnold had forgiven him.

“Do you feel a blind spot for Kevin?” Chris asked Connor, and Connor blinked and furrowed his brow.

“You know, I’m not sure? It’s hard to say, you’ve gotta really look for it. It’s like that blind spot in your eye where your brain fills in whatever’s missing so it feels like everything’s there even though it’s not.”

“Blind spot in your eye?” Kevin asked.

“Yeah, where the retina is. You’ve got no light sensors there so each eye has a blind spot, but the brain makes you see something there based on surrounding information. Learned that in first year psych.”

“Whoa,” Arnold whispered. “I’m blind in both eyes and I didn’t even know it.”

Connor laughed and though it grated a little, Kevin was almost happy to hear it. He hadn’t heard Connor laugh since that fateful night a week ago. He had missed it, against his better judgment.

“It’s just a spot, it’s tiny,” Connor explained. “Here, there’s a way you can see it.”

Several minutes were spent with Connor coaching Arnold on how to see his blind spots and yelling at Chris not to do it while he was driving. It felt normal. It felt like a regular car ride, like the ones Kevin used to have with his family. It was enough to place him halfway between laughing and crying. It had been so long since he had had that relationship with his parents, with his siblings, so long since he had shared any sort of camaraderie with them. He missed them.

“You gonna tell your family, Kevin?” Chris asked.

And just like that Kevin was lurched back into his horrible new reality. Arnold shifted uncomfortably next to him and Kevin said, “Um, I guess I kind of have to don’t I?” What would his family even think? After all the ways Kevin had already failed them and all the things they were already hiding from the world on his behalf, how much more could they take before it was too much? “What about you, Connor? You gonna tell yours?”

“I don’t talk to my family,” Connor replied. He said it with a wobbly laugh and though Kevin couldn’t see his face from his seat, he could see the look Chris gave him and it made him regret asking.

“Oh,” was all Kevin could say. Now would have been a very useful time to be able to feel what Connor was feeling. He dug around in his mind for a blind spot like Connor had described, but couldn’t find a thing.

“That’s too bad,” Arnold said. “Our families don’t talk to us much either, but that’s because we’re disgraces.”

“Arnold!” Kevin snapped.

But Connor laughed and seemingly all was forgiven. Chris still looked concerned from the sliver of his face that Kevin could see, but he wasn’t giving Connor any more looks so it was probably fine.

“That makes three of us, Arnold,” Connor said happily.

‘What had Connor done?’ Kevin wondered. Every time he learned something new about him it only raised more questions. The man was an enigma in a well-pressed sweater and it only made Kevin more infuriated.

Connor’s phone rang. “It’s Wade,” he muttered before answering with a chipper, “Hello?”

“Who’s Wade?” Arnold asked.

“Wade Neeley, one of our other roommates,” Chris answered as Connor said, “Wait, what? Hold on.”

He hit a button and held his phone between himself and Chris. “Can you repeat what you just said?”

“There’s a bunch of people here looking for you,” said a voice over the speakerphone. “They say they’re reporters. Do you know anything about this?”

Connor cast a glance around at the occupants of the car. “Um, maybe? Did they say what it was about?”

“They said it was something to do with Chris. What’s going on Connor?”

“No, what exactly did they say?”

“They said they wanted to talk to you and your soulmate,” Wade told him, voice growing increasingly irritated. “Guys, what’s happening? What did you do?”

“Are they still there?” Chris asked.

“Yeah, a few of them. Some of them said they were gonna try somewhere else. When are you getting back here?”

“Soon,” Connor replied. “We’re just…”

“15 minutes,” Chris supplied.

“15 minutes outside of town,” Connor confirmed. “Have you or Drew said anything to them?”

“Drew isn’t here, he’s at a game. There’s no way I’m talking to these guys unless I know what this is about.”

“Good, don’t talk to them,” Connor instructed. “We’ll be there soon. Hang tight.”

He hung up and silence fell over the car. Connor looked back at Arnold and Kevin, face blank and said, “Well, shit.”


	10. Kevin Price Runs from the Press

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains descriptions of sensory overload and a whole lot of anger so be careful.

“It must have been Logan, it has to have been,” Kevin said hurriedly, anger and fear mixing uncomfortably in his stomach. “He must have overheard what we were talking about and called someone about it.”

“We only just talked about it today,” Connor argued.

“Would they need more time than that?”

“Yes? Maybe? I don’t know how the press works, I’m in theatre for God sake.”

“Are you guys really going to talk to them?” Chris asked in alarm.

“No, of course not!” Kevin exclaimed.

“No, no,” Connor said as well, calmer than the rest of them somehow.

Arnold was panicking wordlessly next to Kevin in his own special way. Kevin had his hand in a death grip around Arnold’s wrist trying to grant either of them any sort of stability and wishing at least one of them was good in an emergency. As it was, the general atmosphere of the car had taken a sharp turn and the backseat was a desperately hectic site of emotion.

“Well, where are we going to go, then?” Chris asked, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “If we go back to our place we’re kind of doing the opposite of avoiding them.”

“Could we go to yours?” Connor asked.

“What if they’re there too?” Arnold shouted, halfway between excited and terrified. “They know where you guys live, why wouldn’t they know where we live?”

“He’s got a point,” Chris said. “Jesus, this is all pretty thrilling.”

“It’s not thrilling!” Kevin cried out. “It’s fucking stupid!”

“Okay, it doesn’t matter who told them,” Connor reasoned, “What matters is that they know.” He paused. “…Or that they probably know. If we can avoid them for long enough then they’ll go away and forget all about it, think it was a false tip.” His calm demeanor should have been a grounding stone for all of them, but somehow it only made Kevin feel more thrown.

“Do we need them to?” Chris asked. “I mean would it really be that bad to give an interview or answer a couple questions?”

“Yes!” Kevin said in exasperation, memories of what the three women had told them earlier that week. He didn’t want that, to become an international sensation. He had midterms coming up, he had a life to maintain, he wasn’t equipped for stardom.

“Could we go to the school?”

“No, both of us spend way too much time there, they would know to look there,” Connor said. He looked between Arnold and Kevin dubiously. “Are you two okay? You don’t look very good.”

“We’re fine!” Kevin yelled, feeling not very fine at all.

“Kevin’s panicking and it’s making me panic!” Arnold yelled.

“Okay, calm down, both of you!” Connor commanded, attempting to gain any sort of control over the situation. “It’s not that big of a deal, we just need to come up with a game plan. What about Florgettaboutit? Could we hide out there?”

Kevin tried to think past all the noise building in his head. “What time is it? Uh, maybe. We’d be cutting it close to closing time, though, I don’t know that they’d let us stay.”

“Worth a shot?” Chris asked.

“The coffee shop is open until late, isn’t it?” Connor asked Chris.

“Yeah, few more hours at least.”

“That’s probably where we should go, then,” Connor reasoned. “They might know where you work, Kevin, but there’s no reason anyone would have told them where Chris works.”

Kevin nodded, feeling a little breathless, fighting to keep Arnold’s hands under control.

“Okay, let’s do it.” 

They parked just outside the coffee shop in a spot Kevin wasn’t entirely certain was legal and piled out, rushing into the shop as calmly as possible. Arnold’s hands kept nipping sporadically at Kevin’s sleeve and he tried to wave them away as discretely as he could. The atmosphere inside the shop was a sharp contrast to the thrum in Kevin’s head, and the familiar location helped, if only a little, to suppress the sparks in his belly. They only achieved a moment of relief before they noticed two people at the counter talking to James. James looked up when they entered and indicated the group to the people who turned around excitedly, one wearing a pantsuit and the other holding a camera at his side.

“Connor McKinley?” called out the woman in the suit.

“Go,” Kevin said. Then louder, “Go, go, go!” He pushed the group back out the door and they ran across the street, Kevin leading the charge, into the alley that led to the only place other than home where Kevin felt safe.

The door to the plant store was unlocked and Kevin hurried everyone through it before closing and locking it behind them. Once it was secure he fell back against it, closing his eyes against the rapid pounding in his chest. The door to the break room opened and Logan came to a startled halt. “Kevin, what are you doing back here?” he asked, bag over his shoulder and clearly ready to leave for the night.

“You piece of shit!” Kevin yelled, storming forward to grab Logan by the collar.

“What did I do?” Logan cried in alarm as he was propelled backward by Kevin’s momentum.

“You sold us out!”

“Are you Logan?” Chris asked.

“Yes! Christ! Yes! Why?” Logan cried, eyes wide in the face of Kevin’s fury.

Kevin let his eyes bore into his coworker, kept his fists balled in his shirt, ready to throw down at a moments notice as his companions attempted a calmer approach.

“Did you call the media?” Connor asked

“What? No! Why would I?”

“Don’t lie to us, asshole!” Kevin seethed, shaking Logan sharply. It had to have been him, he had heard their conversation, he must have known, there was no one else it could possibly be.

“I’m not lying!” Logan shrieked and Kevin felt a small amount of satisfaction at the effect he was having.

“Kevin. Let him go,” Connor said.

A gentle hand was placed on his shoulder and Kevin turned sharply, prepared to spout blame and accusations, but the look on Connor’s face told him it wasn’t worth it. Arnold was panicking near to the door, Chris doing his best to comfort him, but Kevin knew it wouldn’t work so long as he was revved up and forcing his passion down Arnold’s proverbial throat. So he let go of Logan and backed down, trying to calm himself for Arnold’s sake at the very least, letting the heat in the room embrace him.

“Where’s Grant?” he asked, voice contained, but shaky.

“In the bathroom,” Logan muttered, flattening out the wrinkled mess Kevin had left his shirt in.

“How many people are here?” Chris asked as he rubbed Arnold’s back.

“Just the two of us. We’ve already locked up, just about to leave.”

“We need to stay here for a bit,” Connor said, half statement, half plea. “There’s some people looking for us and we need somewhere safe to hide out.”

Logan regarded at the four of them like they were crazy and Kevin supposed they must very much look it. “You can’t stay here, we’ve already locked up,” Logan repeated. “Grant and I need to go home.”

“Logan,” Kevin said, trying his best to sound level-headed, “please do this for us. I’ll cover shifts for you, I’ll give you half my pay, just let us stay for a while more.”

“Exactly what kind of trouble are you guys in?”

The break room door opened again and Grant stepped out this time. “Does anybody else even work here?” Connor muttered as Grant said, “Oh… Hello.

“Grant!” Kevin proclaimed. “We need to stay here for a bit. I know you’ve locked up already, but we just need a little while. An hour tops, I swear.”

Grant looked confused. “What? No! I’m going home, I’ve been here all day, I’m leaving.”

Connor’s phone went off. “It’s Wade,” he said before answering.

“Grant, there are reporters looking for us outside,” Kevin explained as Connor wandered into the front room to talk, desperate for his coworkers to understand the immediacy of their problem. “We’re not in any kind of trouble, not really, but we can’t talk to them right now.”

“Why do reporters want to talk to you?” Grant asked and Logan made a gesture to show he was eager to know the answer as well.

“I can’t tell you that,” Kevin said.

“Oh for God sake,” Chris muttered, and then he stepped forward and told them, “Kevin and Connor are soulmates, the first ever to have two without it being like a… three-way type of deal. The press got word of it somehow and now they’re trying to find them. We just need to wait it out until they lose interest and we would really appreciate it if you would let us do that here.”

“I’m sorry,” Grant said, “but who are you?”

“I’m Connor’s other soulmate, Chris,” Chris said. “Nice to meet you, I’ve heard nothing about you.”

Arnold came up beside Kevin and gently took his hand, seeking out the comfort of their connection and Kevin gladly took the request. They were both far too wound up and though Chris was being more forthright than Kevin would have liked, at least he was handling things better than the rest of them and it had gotten their attention. God, why was it so hot in there?

“Why can’t you just talk to the press, then?” Logan asked. “It doesn’t sound so bad. If you talk to them then maybe they’ll go away.”

“If we talk to them then they’ll just keep coming,” Kevin said. “If we answer their questions and confirm any of this then it’s not going to stop.”

“Why would you want it to? I think fame sounds pretty cool, and you didn’t even have to do anything to get it.”

“No, it’s not cool, Logan. It’s a pain in the ass and I didn’t ask for it.”

Connor reentered the room, shoving his phone into his pocket. “So, good news and bad news,” he said. “Good news is Wade says all the reporters left our house, so we’re good to go there. Bad news is that all of them are outside right now and they saw me.”

“What?”

Kevin rushed over to peer into the next room and was greeted by the sight of several reporters gathered in the front window.

“Shit.”

“Holy shit,” Grant said, suddenly next to him in the doorway. “You guys weren’t kidding.”

“Obviously not.”

“Wait, so is it true then?” Logan asked. “You guys have, like, multiple soulmates?”

Kevin whipped around to glare at him. “Yeah, Logan, but you already knew that.”

“What? How could I?”

“You were eavesdropping on our conversation this morning is how,” Kevin spat. “That’s why the press knows, because you told them. So don’t act innocent because it’s not going to work.”

“I am innocent! I honestly had no idea what you guys were talking about!” He looked around at the others like they might provide him with some sort of alibi, but Kevin didn’t give them a chance.

“You heard enough to ask after my health. You asked about Arnold.”

“Yeah, I heard bits and pieces, you weren’t exactly being quiet,” Logan said defensively. “I heard something about a doctor and something about soulmates so obviously I thought you were talking about Arnold. I hadn’t seen him in a while and you’ve been looking so bad lately I got worried. Sue me for caring I guess.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you,” Arnold said and Kevin felt conflicted. If it hadn’t been Logan, and what he was saying sounded true, then who could it possibly have been?

“Well, somebody called them,” he said.

“Yeah, and it wasn’t me!” Logan cried out.

“We know it wasn’t you,” Connor soothed, glaring at Kevin. “Kevin’s just a little worked up right now.”

“Damn right I am!” Kevin shouted, and then immediately tried to pull himself back.

He didn’t feel right. This didn’t feel right at all. His head was hot and his nerves were vibrating and it felt like fire was eating up his insides. He reached out for Arnold and took his hand again, trying to reign in his feelings again while the others began to discuss what they should do.

“Maybe we should just talk to them,” Connor said. “Maybe we are overreacting. We could convince them it was a mistake or a misunderstanding.”

“After we ran from them like that?” Chris asked.

“It’s worth a shot and better than anything else we’ve come up with. I don’t think we can really avoid this.”

“What’ll you say, though?” Arnold asked, doing his best to calm both himself and Kevin. “Are you really going to lie to them?”

‘Oh, that’s rich coming from you,’ Kevin’s spite said and he shook his head to try and dislodge it.

“I think we have to, if we want any sort of shot at figuring all of this out without having a camera pointed at us every step of the way. And to be perfectly honest, I’m curious how they found out too. Outside of the people in this room and Dr. E I haven’t told anyone about this.”

“Me neither,” Kevin and Chris agreed.

Arnold didn’t respond.

“Arnold?” Kevin asked, growing increasingly alarmed.

A look came over Arnold’s face or reluctance and then guilt. “It was only Nuremburg,” he said, the false name grating painfully in Kevin’s ears, “I swear. And I told her not to tell anyone!”

“You told her?” Kevin shrieked.

“She was curious and I was really weirded out by it and I wanted someone to talk to and Chris didn’t know at the time, so…”

“You’ve only been dating for three weeks! You don’t even know her name!”

“I trust her, though! She said she wouldn’t tell anyone!”

“This isn’t the most pressing issue at the moment, guys!” Connor said. “We can figure out who told them after we deal with the reporters. Okay?”

Kevin stuck Arnold with a scathing glare, but both of them said, “Okay.”

“Good,” Connor said, pushing his hair back into perfect place. “Now I think we have a choice. Option one: we go talk to the reporters; and option two: we sneak out the back, get Chris’s car and go back to our place and hole up there.”

“I vote any option that’ll get you guys out of here so I can leave,” Grant mumbled.

“You’re not a part of this, Grant!” Kevin yelled.

“Oh my God, could you calm down for two seconds, please?” Grant spat back. “Damn, Price, I get it’s stressful, but I think this is a bit of an overreaction.”

“Guys, please!” Connor begged. “Let’s figure this out so we can all go home.”

“Fuck it,” Kevin muttered. He was sick of hanging around waiting for a decision to be made. He was full of anxious and angry energy and he just wanted to be left alone, so he released Arnold’s hand and stormed into the other room, letting the fire take him. Every fern leaf sliced at his flesh, the hot air sat heavy in his breast, the entire room condensed in his vision with the door sitting at centre. The others followed him hurriedly, asking what he thought he was doing, telling him to wait, but Kevin was done waiting. He unlocked the front door and stepped outside.

Immediately the group converged on him, consuming his sight and stuffing his ears with noise. There weren’t really that many of them, but they were loud and insistent and pushed right up into his face, asking questions, shouting to be heard.

“Leave us alone!” he shouted at the throng. “Just go away! Please!”

“Who are you?” was the predominant question being asked as the soft heads of microphones were shoved in his face.

“I’m Kevin Price,” he told them, trying to make himself look imposing. “And we don’t want to talk to you!”

At the sound of his name, new questions were launched. Inquiries into who Connor McKinley was, what their connection was, was it true they were bonded to multiple soulmates?

“Who told you that?” he asked, the question being the only thought he could produce reliably in the static of his mind.

“Does that mean it’s true?” asked one reporter.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s true. Who told you?”

“A tip from a local barista,” another reporter informed him. “Mr. Price, is it true that you have multiple soulmates?”

“A barista?” Kevin asked.

“Kevin, our sources tell us you’ve been bonded to Arnold Cunningham for the last 20 years and only recently have discovered another connection with Connor McKinley. Is this true?”

“Yes, it’s true! Which barista?” he asked, desperate for an answer. Why weren’t they answering him?

“Kevin!” Connor yelled from the doorway.

“Connor McKinley?” asked a reporter, the same one they had seen earlier, and the group swelled into another round of questions directed at Connor who looked deeply as though he would rather be anywhere else.

“Kevin, get inside!”

“Which barista?” Kevin demanded again, loud.

“Kevin!” Connor grabbed at Kevin’s arm, but Kevin swatted him away, prompting a burst of green light and an increased interest from the cameras. Connor tried again, holding on to Kevin’s shirt for dear life and Chris pushed his way outside in order to help pull Kevin away. Their hands irritated his skin, hot and sharp and distracting, but he fought them every step of the way.

“Which barista?” he yelled even as he was dragged through the doorway.

Once he was back inside, Logan closed and locked the door, the muffled commotion of the reporters becoming background noise as Connor shoved Kevin deeper into the store.

“What the hell, Kevin?” Connor yelled. “What is wrong with you?”

“We need to know who it was.”

“No we don’t! Why are you so stuck on this? It’s not important!”

“They said it was a barista!” Kevin pressed. “We just have to find out which one! There were plenty of people working that day when we talked to Claudia, any one of them could have seen us!”

“You’ve only made it worse! Now they know it’s true!” Connor shouted.

“We need to get out of here,” Chris told them.

“They’re not going to leave us alone now, you messed everything up!”

“Connor,” Chris tried again. “You can yell at him in the car, but we need to leave.”

Connor swallowed his anger and looked back at the window where the reporters were speaking into their cameras, making phone calls, yelling questions at the shut door. To Kevin it felt like every time he had gone into lockdown, his brain retreating somewhere deep inside, the people around him becoming distant. But this was real. This was actually happening. And he needed to make it stop, there was so much noise.

“We have to go to the coffee shop,” he told them, earning odd looks from all sides. “If whoever blabbed works there we can go to them.”

“What’s that going to do, Kevin?” Connor asked incredulously. “They all already know! You confirmed it! Yelling at some poor barista isn’t going to fix anything!”

The fire consuming his insides was making Kevin’s head fill with smoke, making his thoughts go woozy and making his own voice sound distant. He felt nauseous. He could see Arnold watching him with terrified fascination while half-hidden behind Grant’s impatient frame, but he was absent in every other sense from Kevin’s world.

“Get Kevin to the car,” Connor instructed Chris as he grabbed Kevin’s arm. “We have to get him out of here before he says anything else.”

Kevin struggled against the group, but with Connor, Chris and Logan all pulling him through the room and out the back door there was no point. He was desperate, though, for reasons not quite in his realm of understanding, he needed to go talk to the reporters, he needed to get to the bottom of this. And, God, he was so hot, he was far too hot.

Miraculously, they managed to get to Chris’s car without being spotted and Kevin was shoved into the back seat next to Arnold. “We’ll go throw them off,” Logan promised, Grant hovering behind him. “Keep an eye on him,” he nodded to Kevin, looking worried and annoying and Kevin wanted to punch him. But the door shut before he could retaliate and Chris took off, trapping Kevin in his seat.

“Something’s wrong with him,” Arnold said in concern. “I’ve never felt him like this.”

“Yeah, we can see there’s something wrong with him,” Connor replied tersely.

“Can you feel it?”

Connor paused. “No,” he said. “No, there’s nothing.” He almost sounded devastated and Chris shot him a look.

“What’s it feel like?” Chris asked Arnold.

“It’s like… it’s like burning, like fire. It’s all noise and heat and- and energy.” Arnold shook his head, pressing a palm to Kevin’s forehead. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

Kevin squirmed, tried to throw off the touch. The blue light was doing nothing for him, hurting his eyes. He couldn’t really think straight, his mind getting jumbled and loud. Every inch of him felt hot and, God, he needed to get out of the car or he was going to throw up.

“Keep him still,” Chris told Arnold. “We’re almost there.”

“I’m trying!” Arnold’s eyes were wide and his lip was trembling as he held Kevin in his seat, but Kevin didn’t have the presence of mind to understand what either of those things meant. “He feels scared,” Arnold whispered.

Kevin didn’t feel scared. He didn’t feel anything, but he also felt everything and he needed so badly to get rid of it all before his head exploded. He couldn’t even make out Arnold’s emotions in the mess inside his head. Arnold was lost in the confusion of Kevin’s mind just as much as Kevin was. He couldn’t find either of them.

“I’m doing this to him,” Connor whispered. “It’s me, it’s got to be me, there’s no other explanation.” He turned around in his seat quickly and shot out his hand. “Kevin, touch me,” he commanded.

Desperate for relief, Kevin obeyed, grabbing at the hand like it was a lifeline. And there was the light, green and vibrant and full of life, and it was like the pressure that was building inside of him was released with that smoke. The fire was still there, but suddenly the smoke had somewhere to go. God, he could have cried.

They arrived moments later at a house, a run-down looking structure that had been divided into separate student apartments, and once Chris had parked in the garage they hurried out, Arnold supporting Kevin as though he thought him too weak to walk. He didn’t feel weak, he felt confused. His wires were crossed and every part of his body was telling his brain something different. The moment he could, he frantically grasped Connor’s hand, and though it didn’t make him fine, it made him better.

Chris and Connor led them through a door and up the stairs to the top floor apartment where Kevin was thrown into an armchair and Arnold knelt next to him as Chris closed all the blinds, casting the room in a dim light that was almost soothing. “Kevin? How you doing, best friend?” Arnold asked.

“I feel sick,” Kevin replied through his teeth.

“I’m calling Dr. E,” Chris told them, pulling out his phone. Maybe he’ll know what’s going on. Maybe he can help us.”

Connor vanished into the kitchen and returned with bottles of water and a large plastic bowl. He put the bowl in Kevin’s lap and told him to throw up if he needed to, then uncapped a bottle and downed at least half.

“How do you feel, Connor?” Arnold asked.

Connor swallowed and nodded and shook his head. “Fine, I feel fine. How do you feel?”

“Not too great,” he replied honestly. Connor handed him a water bottle and he took it gratefully. “I’ve never felt Kevin like that before. I’ve felt him as, like, a smaller version of that, like when he gets really angry or when the panic attacks get bad, but never as big or as loud as that. What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Connor replied, studying Kevin’s face intently.

“You guys, what the fuck is going on?” came an unfamiliar voice from the hall.

All three of them looked up to find a young man watching them with annoyed confusion. “Wade,” Connor breathed, shoulders relaxing for the first time since they had arrived in town. “I’m so sorry I had to hang up on you. I’m so, so sorry about all of this.”

“Connor, it’s fine, just tell me what’s happening.”

Connor and Arnold exchanged a look and Kevin just closed his eyes, trying to hold back the noise that was still raging inside of him. “Wade, this is Arnold and Kevin,” Connor said.

“This is Kevin?” Wade asked. “The same guy you were telling me about? What’s wrong with him?”

“We’re just trying to figure that out.”

“I think he’s dying,” Arnold blurted out in horror.

“He’s not dying,” Connor said, “he just got… overwhelmed.”

“What about those reporters who were here looking for you?” Wade asked, eyeing Kevin distrustfully. Kevin didn’t have the focus to eye him back, exerting all of his energy just to keep calm. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before and wasn’t that just par for the course. Three weeks and one boy and suddenly his whole life was bursting at the seams with brand new, irritating experiences.

“We’ve lost them for now,” Connor told Wade, “but they’re bound to figure out we went out the back way and come looking for us here. They’re trying to get to Kevin and me and I will tell you why later, I promise. Right now we just need to figure out how to help Kevin.”

“I’m fine,” Kevin lied, the tremble in his voice betraying him.

“Well, you don’t look like you’re going to hurl anymore, so I guess that’s an improvement.”

“You don’t feel much better though…” Arnold said, stroking Kevin’s hand distractedly.

Kevin turned his hand over to hold his, as much for the comfort as to still the nervous movements. “I just need to concentrate,” he said quietly.

“Connor,” Chris said as he reentered the room. “I just got off the phone with Dr. E. He says he’s going to try to schedule you guys an emergency appointment at the hospital for this week instead of next month, he figures the quicker they can run their tests the better. In the meantime, he says that you’re right, that Kevin’s probably reacting badly to the connection and the best thing we can do for him is to keep the two of you as far apart as possible until the appointment.”

“That’s not exactly possible right now,” Connor said doubtfully. “There’s nowhere we can go. And I’d hate to leave him like this.” His hand hovered tentatively over Kevin’s free one. “When I touched him before it seemed to make him feel better,” he said, thinking aloud.

“Did it make you feel anything?” Chris asked almost hopefully.

“No, it didn’t,” Connor admitted sharply. “But I think maybe my calmness helped him. Balanced him out a bit.”

Kevin leaned his head back in his seat, trying to prevent his hand from lurching up into Connors. There was so much energy in every atom of him, it was a miracle he could keep still. But then Connor laid his hand overtop of his and it was like everything in him slowed. He gasped and very nearly moaned. Moving in slow motion, hanging suspended in water, a sudden fall abruptly slowed. It was all still there, but slower and more detached. Manageable.

“What the fuck,” Wade said at the edges of Kevin’s awareness. “Is that why those people are trying to find you?”

“Yeah,” Connor confirmed.

“That’s so wild.”

“This feels… kinda weird,” Arnold muttered.

“What does?” asked Connor.

“I can feel you through him, like some kind of chain reaction.”

Connor’s eyes widened, his mouth hung open. “You can feel me?” he asked breathlessly.

“I can feel you’re there. And I can feel the effect you’re having on him.”

The look of hope left Connor’s face, but he turned his eyes to the green light in frustration. “I can’t feel you,” he said.

Kevin opened his eyes and looked down at Connor, taking in the disappointment in his features. He had hoped so sincerely that Arnold, that anyone, could feel him. Kevin felt sorry for him. He couldn’t imagine what that lack of connection would feel like, how lonely it must be. Was that why he was so friendly to everyone? In the hopes of fulfilling some missing connection?

He turned his hand slightly, just enough to brush his finger across the underside of Connor’s wrist. Connor looked up at him and for a moment Kevin wanted to tell him it was okay, that he wasn’t alone, that there was nothing wrong with him. But instead he said, “Can I have some water?”

~

Half an hour was spent in peace before Chris called over from the window, “They’re back.”

By then, the inside of Kevin’s mind had soothed a great deal and Arnold was flooding him with relief. Connor had held his hand through it and he was worried he would let go when he turned from his seat on the floor to ask, “The reporters?” But he stayed seated as Arnold and Wade joined Chris by the window.

“I think there might be a few new ones,” Arnold said. “I didn’t get a good look at them before, but I don’t recognize those ones.” Here he pointed out the window between the blinds and Chris nodded.

“They’re multiplying,” he said.

“Have they seen you?” Connor asked.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“Then get away from there before they do.”

“I texted Drew telling him not to come home,” Wade told them as they retreated from the window. “Told him there was a drunk guy outside, looked dangerous.”

“Good.”

“We don’t need to drag any more people into this than we already have,” Kevin agreed quietly.

“How are you feeling, Kevin?” Connor asked, rubbing his thumb across the back of Kevin’s hand.

“Better,” Kevin replied. “Tired. I don’t feel like I’m going to explode anymore, so that’s a plus.” He gave Connor an apologetic look and said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do all that, I didn’t mean to give us away. It was all just so much and I just wanted it to stop.”

“That’s fine, that’s okay,” Connor said, “You couldn’t control it.”

“No, I couldn’t. God, it hurt so much. Thank you for helping me.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked over to the windows. “What’s the plan now?”

“I’m not sure. I think now we kind of have to talk to them. You got the ball rolling and now we’ve got to catch it.”

Kevin laughed. “Stunning metaphor, Mr. McKinley.”

A tentative smile made its way onto Connor’s face. “Huh,” he said. “You almost sounded like your old self for a moment there. Which is a big relief, by the way, you’ve been kind of insufferable these past couple weeks.”

“I don’t feel like myself,” Kevin admitted. “I feel kind of… dull.”

“You’ve always been dull.”

“No, I mean… First of all, thanks for that,” he said wryly. “But for real, everything feels kind of not all there. Everything’s a little distant and smoothed over.”

“I feel that too,” Arnold agreed. “I mean, I feel normal, but you feel sort of small in my head, not like usual.”

“I feel like I did at the party,” Kevin mumbled, knitting his brow together. “I can’t really feel Arnold properly either, it’s weird.” He looked down at where Connor was still clasping his hand. “Let me go for a second,” he said.

Hesitantly, Connor let go and all the sharp edges of Kevin’s mind immediately came back. “Whoa,” he said, blinking at Arnold in dismay. The fire was gone, thankfully, but there were remnants, a distant crackle that threatened to spread out at any moment. Other than that, he felt perfectly normal. He reached out and touched the first part of Connor he could, his neck, and everything went dull again. “Now that’s kind of freaky,” he muttered.

“What is?” Connor asked.

Kevin let him go and could only look at him for a moment in curiosity and utter wonder. “There’s something about you,” he said and Connor frowned in confusion. “All this week it’s felt like there was something building up inside me, this anger and confusion and desperation, making me act… well, like a prick. More of a prick than usual. But the whole time it didn’t feel quite right, like it wasn’t really me, but now that it’s happened and I’ve gotten it out – now that you’ve gotten it out of me, I feel more like my old self. But when I touch you now… everything fades a bit.”

Connor’s eyes widened as though he suddenly understood something important, but he schooled his features quickly and simply nodded. “That does sound strange,” he said. Then he stood and wandered away leaving Kevin perplexed in the armchair. He peaked through the blinds and sighed. “I should go deal with them,” he said, chewing on his lip.

“You don’t have to,” Chris told him.

“No, it’s getting late and Arnold and Kevin need to go home.”

“They could stay the night,” Wade suggested. “Until things blow over a little bit.”

Connor shook his head. “They’re not going to blow over. We should just nip this in the bud.” He turned to his soulmate, his first soulmate. “Chris? Would you mind coming with me?”

“You don’t want me to come?” Kevin asked as Chris and Connor started down the stairs.

“You should rest,” Connor told him. “I can handle this.”

“You do look kind of horrible,” Arnold agreed.

“Okay. Good luck,” Kevin said and Connor cast him a smile before disappearing down the stairs.

It was true that Kevin did feel pretty terrible still, though not as bad as he had before. He felt spent and a little sore from all those people grabbing at him, and he felt guilty as hell. But he still couldn’t shake the worry that Connor didn’t want him to come in fear that he would make things worse again.

But he didn’t mention it to anyone. He didn’t fight it. He knew that things were going to get worse no matter what.

He turned back to Arnold and as he turned he noticed a lily sitting near the window.


	11. Kevin Price Gets Tested

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of conversion therapy in this chapter

Being hounded by the press wasn’t so bad. They couldn’t come inside Kevin’s home. They couldn’t come inside Kevin’s classes. They couldn’t go in the library. There were plenty of places he could go to get a break from them and it wasn’t like he ever used to go anywhere anyways.

It was still odd, though, to hear about himself on the radio or TV. He and Arnold liked to tune in, though, to see what new and wild speculations were being made about them. The first few days had been the worst, mostly because his disastrous first encounter with reporters was shown over and over again and seeing himself in that state was like sticking a dagger in his arm: painful, but not life-threatening.

He had gotten better at talking to them, too, learned what kinds of questions to expect, how to be cordial in a way that didn’t come off as false, learned not to look directly at the cameras. It could have been worse. And once most of the story was known it was even easier because now he was repeating himself less and less, and although the reporters were growing in number, they were lessening in intensity. He had to admit, he sort of enjoyed the attention.

Connor was less suited to the camera than he was, which was surprising. He had a habit of seizing up and getting a deer in the headlights look the moment he saw a lens pointed at him, but he coped. And with Kevin’s help, he learned.

They tried to spend more time together, not because they had particularly forgiven one another for their individual indiscretions, but because Kevin needed him. The contact kept him sane, eased the pressure whenever it began to build in his brain, and he began to let go of his hatred, one day at a time. It didn’t help that they had to pretend for the cameras, the pressure to seem functional and friendly making it difficult to do so in private as well.

But they managed.

The strangest part, honestly, was being recognized. The odd looks he received in class. The whispers about him from people he passed on the street. But he had always been relatively good at ignoring people. And feeling wanted like this again, feeling different and desirable, was intoxicating.

“It’s going to your head,” Arnold teased him.

And Kevin would worry that it might be.

Another place the cameras couldn’t follow him, was into a hospital. The nurses and staff wouldn’t allow it. So when the four of them arrived the cameras stayed behind in the street and were replaced with suspicious patients and the scent of sterilization. Kevin still didn’t like hospitals, but then, who did.

“We were referred here by Dr. Edozie-Egbuna,” Connor told the nurse once they had arrived in the correct ward.

There were significantly less patients here and significantly more people in lab coats. Kevin supposed it was more research than treatment based so it would make sense, but it still made them all feel out of place.

“We’ll call your name when they’re ready for you,” the nurse told them.

There was no patient seating in that particular section of the hospital, so the group stood awkwardly by the wall opposite the nurses station, sore thumbs by all accounts. People walked by them with purpose and complex-looking graphs, and at one point a large machine was wheeled down the hall nearby, but largely, they were ignored.

“Is anyone else getting like a really weird vibe from this place?” Arnold asked.

“I’ve never been in an area of a hospital like this before,” Kevin replied. “I guess it’s less, I don’t know, user-friendly. Built for science instead of people.”

“I’ve been in a place like this before,” Connor said. “Back in Provo when they ran a bunch of tests on me. It’s pretty standard.”

“Yeah, me too,” Chris said. “But my place actually had chairs. I don’t think it was in a hospital either, more like a free-standing clinic. Same kind of atmosphere though, once you got past the waiting room.”

“It feels like that area of the hospital where they take x-rays,” Kevin mused, leaning against the wall. “It’s been ages since I broke anything, though, maybe it just seemed like this ‘cause I was younger.”

“No, it’s definitely like this in x-ray places,” Chris confirmed knowingly. “I fractured my arm a couple years ago, the place looked just like this, but the halls weren’t so wide. Also there were less pictures on the wall.”

“Sounds like a not-fun place,” Arnold said.

“I don’t think any place is fun when you’ve got a fractured arm,” Kevin told him with a fond smile.

“Can confirm,” Chris said.

It felt like it had in that first blissful week he had known Connor, before all the mess and the problems began. They were somewhat friendly and tentatively happy and Kevin was back to normal stress levels. They didn’t flirt anymore, though, which Kevin was infinitely grateful for. He had mostly gotten over the situation, but there was still a tiny amount of resentment floating around inside him, refusing to be put out. He hid it well, though.

“I got a call yesterday from a talk show,” Kevin said. “They want to have us on for an interview.”

“Which one?” Connor asked.

“Nigel Green, I think. I told them we’d consider it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever watched Nigel Green. I’ve heard of his show, but I’ve never really been into the news.”

“You’ve got to watch the news, Connor, how else are you going to know what’s happening in the world?”

“I’m not dead yet, so I think the world’s doing okay.”

“That’s the worst philosophy I’ve ever heard.”

“Connor McKinley and Kevin Price?” called a nurse.

The group fell silent and Connor smiled to the nurse, “Yes, that’s us.”

“Right this way, please.”

The group exchanged looks of support and then Kevin and Connor followed the nurse through a door into a short hallway with two curtained booths on one side. Between the booths was a plastic chest from which she extracted a pair of gowns. “Put these on in there and then come through this door when you’re ready.”

“Thanks,” they said, taking the gowns and looking uncertainly at one another.

“Anything like you remember it?” Kevin asked from inside his booth, shirt and undershirt off, belt on the way out.

“Oh yeah,” Connor replied from the next booth over. “It’s all coming back to me.”

They both stepped out wearing only the flimsy gowns and their socks and boxers, both feeling exposed and both looking embarrassed. “Didn’t have anyone with me last time, though,” Connor said with a smile, trying to ease the tension.

They forgot all about their nakedness once they went through the double doors into the room beyond, however. It was larger than Kevin had thought it would be and filled with machines of various types, but each one just as intimidating as the one before it. Several people in lab coats stood about calibrating or whatever it is scientists did with their machines, Kevin supposed. One stepped forward and extended a hand.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Smith,” she said, shaking their hands. “You must be Kevin and Connor. You’ve been keeping very busy this week.”

“You’ve seen the news?” Kevin asked a little sheepishly.

“I like to keep up to date. Now, which one of you is Kevin?”

“That would be me.”

“Ah, good. Now Dr. Edozie-Egbuna sent ahead Connor’s records from his last round of tests, which I believe was…” She glanced into the folder she was holding. “Three years ago. It’s up to date enough that we have the information we need, but it looks like you haven’t been in for a thorough examination in well over ten years, so we’ll need to run a few tests on you first to get the control data we need. Is your other soulmate here with you today?”

“Yeah, both of them are in the hall,” Kevin replied.

“Very nice of them to come with you. Tests like these can be scary, but there is nothing to be afraid of. The machines may be big, but they won’t hurt you.”

She was smiling reassuringly to them, but Kevin didn’t really feel reassured. He smiled back anyways, meeting false with false.

“Now, Connor, if you’d like to stay, you can, or you can wait in that room over there. It should only be about 15 minutes.”

Connor looked at Kevin uncertainly and Kevin nodded. “I’ll go wait,” Connor told Dr. Smith.

He was led away by a technician whose name Kevin didn’t catch and suddenly Kevin felt very alone. He was significantly taller than Dr. Smith, but she was still incredibly intimidating for reasons utterly beyond him. Perhaps it was the lab coat or the fact that she could control all of the machines, at least one of which could probably kill him. Either way, the smile was swiftly transitioning in his mind from reassuring to sinister.

Kevin was led to a chair covered in wax paper similar to checkup tables and told to hold still as he was attached to various cables and machinery. It all felt very scientific and while the doctor explained what each machine was for, it all went well over his head. Numbers and equations he didn’t understand were transferred from screens to charts and as they went a nurse asked him various questions about his experiences with Arnold, with Connor, with no one but himself. None of the tests hurt, not even the one where an electrical current was sent through him and measured on the other side, but it all made him feel nervous and claustrophobic.

The tests on Kevin alone went on for well over 20 minutes and in the end he wasn’t sure how well he had done, but once Connor was led back in it didn’t really matter because now he had someone on his side.

The rest of the tests were fairly similar to the previous ones, though now they were performed in triplicate: touching, not touching, distant. They were asked different kinds of questions about what they could feel, about what each other was feeling, about what they had felt previously. It was agonizing. At one point they were removed to separate rooms and made to guess what the other was feeling while a man in a lab coat took readings only to be brought back together to answer the same questions, but now holding hands. By the time they were finished, Kevin was certain they had been through every machine in the room at least once as well as several in adjoining rooms and his backside was getting sore from sitting.

They were sent to a room down an unnoticed hall that was very similar to a standard clinic room and left to their own devices, waiting for the results.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t have gotten dressed first,” Kevin mumbled. “It’s cold in here and I’m absolutely certain they’ve done that on purpose.”

“It’s cold for the machines,” Connor replied. He had taken a seat on one of the available chairs while Kevin had opted to stand, studying the medical posters on the wall. “It’s not like they’re doing it specifically to spite you.”

“As far as you know.” He made a face at a particularly nasty illustration. “God, I can’t even pronounce this one. Are there even that many letters in the English language?

“Come sit down.” Connor patted the chair next to him and Kevin looked at it dubiously.

“We’ve been sitting for ages, I’d rather stand.”

“Whatever suits you.”

“I hope we don’t have to wait too long.”

“You know, Kevin,” Connor said after a brief pause, “you’ve been really different lately. And I don’t just mean different than when you were freaking out and panicking and yelling at everyone, I mean different than when I met you too.”

“How so?”

“You’re less high strung, I think. More relaxed. I haven’t heard you mention all the essays you have to get done in at least an hour.”

“Oh hah hah,” Kevin said sarcastically, crossing his arms. “I’ve got other things on my mind.”

“I think it’s a good change,” Connor said, playing with the hem of his gown. Somehow his hair was still perfect and that was just downright annoying, glowing in the light of the frosted window situated at his back. “You’re less likely to die of a heart attack this way.”

The door opened and Kevin had to jump back or be hit, retreating to stand next to Connor rather than take the other chair.

“Sorry about that,” Dr. Smith said. She smiled and it didn’t look real, not in the same way that Connor’s didn’t look real, but underpracticed rather than overpracticed. “Why don’t you take a seat, Kevin, and we’ll get started,” she said, gesturing to the empty chair as she took her own.

“I’d rather stand, thanks.”

“Of course. Now, we’ve compiled the data we achieved from the tests and I must say the result is rather surprising.”

“Good surprising or bad surprising?” Kevin asked. Connor swatted at his arm.

“Just interesting,” the doctor said, crossing her legs and turning to her computer. She pulled up a file with their names on it and a set of graphs Kevin couldn’t understand one bit of took over the screen. “Now, I do need to preface this with the fact that we have never seen a case like yours in the history of medicine, that in itself is a feat, so most of our related data is taken from standard soul bonds as well as whatever data we have available on not-so-standard bonds.”

“Tripartite superanima,” Connor recited and Dr. Smith looked impressed. Kevin rolled his eyes and leaned against the back of Connor’s chair.

“I see you’ve done your research. Any information we have on those particular groups is, of course confidential and also rather out of date, but it is useful for the sake of comparison. It’s also interesting to note that much of the information taken from the tripartite superanima is essentially indistinguishable from the information taken from standard two-person bonds. They’re basically the same, but with two paths of transmission rather than one. Your case appears to be quite different.”

She turned to the boys and held up two pens. “For the sake of understanding, let’s say that each of these pens is a light bulb and the light bulbs are people.”

“The pens are people?”

“Yes, but we’re pretending they’re light bulbs. Now, in a standard bond it is as though these two bulbs power one another. A wire runs between them and power is transferred back and forth so that the bulbs stay lit and maintain the same amount of energy at all times. It is shared, but also individual. The tripartite superanima is the same, but with an added third bulb. In that case there are three wires connecting all three so that they, once again, share equal energy between them.

“In your case this is different. Rather than a shared circuit, the wires go in a line. Four bulbs, but only three wires. The energy passed between each wire can only be in those two bulbs, it doesn’t pass to the next bulb. The energy that keeps your soulmate lit keeps you lit as well, but does not pass on to the next soulmate.

“What this means is that there is three times the power for only twice the light bulbs. The two light bulbs in the middle, the two of you, get twice as much input as the exterior bulbs in the circuit, your soulmates. This is possibly what caused your problems earlier in the week, Kevin, too much energy input and the bulb overheats, possibly bursts. You had input from both sides, which was overwhelming to your circuits, you weren’t designed for two inputs, but you got them anyways. Do you understand?”

Kevin raised his eyebrows a moment later once he had processed that he had been asked a question. “Oh, um… Yes? I think so? It’s a lot of imagining going on, and I didn’t get much of the beginning, but I think I caught up to you somewhere in the middle.”

Connor smiled. “Yes, we understand.”

“Now you said that making contact with Connor released some of that energy. That is because contact increases the sharing of energy, creates a clearer pathway. You were able to give more output so the energy could stop building up momentarily.”

“No light bulbs?” Kevin asked.

“We made up the light bulb analogy for… slightly less complex connections. We’ve never seen an overload of input because there’s never been one. We can only assume, make an educated guess based on current information.”

“So you’re guessing?”

“We like to use the word ‘hypothesizing’.” She smiled again and Kevin exchanged a look with Connor. “Now,” Dr. Smith continued, “The information we are basing these hypotheses on is actually somewhat unexpected. The strength of your bond is, as the specialist told you, very strong, stronger than we initially thought. Our machines get a clearer reading than his handheld model and we were able to find that the strength of your bond is in the upper limitations of what we’ve so far seen. From what I understand, it greatly exceeds the bonds you have with your other soulmates.”

“I’m closer to Connor than to Arnold?” Kevin asked. That really was the last thing he needed to hear.

“Stronger doesn’t necessarily mean closer,” she corrected him. “But what we found especially fascinating about your readings was the empathic bond.”

“It’s low,” Connor said. “We know it’s low, we can’t feel a thing.”

“Actually, our readings showed extremely high amounts of activity. The information being shared between you is abnormally elevated. That’s what makes it so fascinating.”

Connor’s face took on a look of sheer bewilderment and he looked up at Kevin who returned the sentiment wholeheartedly. “But if it’s so high, then why aren’t we feeling anything?” Kevin asked.

“And there lies the question.” Her expression was one of wild interest, the scientist in her bringing about a genuine smile much unlike the one they had seen so far. “It’s difficult to say without similar situations to compare it to, but we theorize that it could be a redistribution along the line. The information that should be going to you is going, instead, to your other partners, or possibly being processed differently by the brain. We weren’t meant for multiple empathic connections, so it could be a short circuit and the information is getting lost.”

“I thought the information couldn’t pass between lightbulbs- uh… people?” Kevin said.

“Not in large amounts, no.”

“Is that why I can’t feel Chris?” Connor asked, sitting forward eagerly in his seat.

“From the information we have on your other bond, it’s entirely possible, but also impossible to prove.”

A thought crossed Kevin’s mind and he frowned. “Dr. Smith, Dr. E told us it’s possible that we could be mistaking each others emotions for our own or for our other soulmates.”

“Yes, that’s entirely plausible.”

“Is there any way to test that?” Kevin asked and Connor looked up at him sharply.

“There is, but it’s a very expensive procedure. The information we would need would have to be provided by a scan to show us which areas of the brain are processing information, which is outside of our unit and would require the use of neurology personnel. The amount of information we would have to acquire at once makes it entirely inaccessible both financially and logistically. It’s possible a psychiatrist could help you walk through the steps to measure your own emotional output, but this could also be fairly expensive and would not be as reliable as a quantitative analysis would be. Is there a reason you ask?”

“I sometimes get these… feelings. They’re not unreasonable, necessarily, but they can be… over the top. I sometimes feel more than I should and wind up overreacting to something small, yelling at my friends when they don’t deserve it. And I’m aware I’m doing it, I can feel that I’m being unfair, but I can’t really do anything to stop it, it’s just really overwhelming. Sometimes I get into a cycle with Arnold where I feel something and it makes him feel it, which makes me feel it more and so on until we’re both feeling this feeling more than we should be like a feedback loop. Could that be what’s happening here? Connor and I getting stuck in a feedback loop without even realizing it? Making me feel too much?”

“It’s possible,” Dr. Smith said slowly. “It would need to be observed from both parties, however, in order to be certain.”

“Arnold sometimes says I’m feeling things that I’m not or I think he’s feeling things that he’s not. Is that what this is? Am I just feeling things from Connor?”

“That sounds like exactly the situation we’ve described. If this is the reality of the situation, then I do suggest seeing a therapist or psychologist in order to help you differentiate the emotions, take ownership of what you’re feeling, and learn to process the emotions properly. It’s a common difficulty for new soulmates, especially young ones, and can make transitioning into the relationship difficult.”

“Dr. Smith,” Connor interrupted. “I’m sorry, but… could I speak with Kevin alone for a moment, please?”

“Absolutely, take all the time you need.” She took her folders with her and left, shutting the door behind her.

Kevin tried to get a look at Connor’s face, which was turned toward the floor, a grimace marked out with his mouth. “What’s wrong?” Kevin asked. “I thought it was going pretty good, this is actually answering a lot of questions.”

“Except it’s not,” Connor said, looking up at Kevin with an expression he couldn’t quite read. “It might make sense for someone else, for a different pair, but it doesn’t add up for us.”

“What do you mean? Everything’s making sense all of a sudden! Everything I’ve been feeling, it’s been coming from you, that’s why it’s so much, because it isn’t mine.”

“Yeah, except it’s not mine, either.”

Kevin frowned. “What do you mean? How could you know that?”

Connor’s expression was one of intense worry; wide eyes and raised brows and it unsettled Kevin’s stomach fiercely. “Those feelings you have, Kevin, I don’t feel them. I don’t get the kind of angry that you do. I don’t get that anxiety or that… whatever else it is you think I’m feeling.”

“What do you mean?”

Connor swallowed and sat up straight, running his hands over his knees nervously. “I don’t have feelings like that, I just don’t. Chris doesn’t feel so little from me because we have a bad connection, it’s because there’s nothing to feel.”

“Are you trying to say you don’t have emotions?”

“No, no, I do, of course I do. I just don’t have bad ones or… or big ones.”

“You do, though, I’ve seen it. You’ve gotten angry at me tons of times.”

“I lose my temper once in a while, yeah, under stress and pressure from you, but most of the time… If I feel something like that coming on I just sort of… switch it off.”

“Switch it off?”

“Yeah, I make the choice not to feel that thing so I turn it off and don’t feel it.”

Kevin sighed and sat down in the doctor’s wheely chair. “Connor, that’s not how feelings work, you can’t just shut it down whenever you feel like it.”

“But I do,” Connor insisted. “I have been for years. When I was a kid I started having feelings that certain people didn’t approve of so they taught me to turn it off whenever I felt it happening and I got really good at it.”

The unsettling in Kevin’s stomach grew into a fist-sized knot. “Who taught you that?” he asked quietly, his skin prickling with dread.

“A therapist,” Connor replied, picking at the hem of his gown again, rubbing it between his fingers, pulling at the threads. “A church-appointed therapist. He taught me that whenever I was feeling something bad it made me a bad person and that if I turned it off then I could have a chance to be a good person.”

“You can’t honestly believe-“

“No, of course not,” Connor said with a mirthless chuckle. “Having certain feelings doesn’t make you a bad person, not the feelings he was talking about anyways. But after years of doing it, it just sort of stuck. It’s a second nature at this point. I don’t even have time to feel the bad thing before it’s gone. That’s why it’s not possible those feelings are coming from me, because I’m not feeling them, so you can’t possibly be feeling…”

“Connor,” Kevin breathed, entirely horrified by what he was learning. “You can’t just turn off an emotion, it’s still there.”

“No,” Connor said with another, more unnerving laugh. “No, it’s gone. You turn it off and then you’re happy or-or straight or- whatever you want to be, it’s that easy. Like, for example, when I was a little kid I would have panic attacks, constantly, over the smallest things. When I started learning how to turn things off I realized I could do that with the panic attacks, I could make them go away. And it worked!” He grinned his false grin and threw up his hands in a shrug. “They went away, I stopped having panic attacks, I stopped feeling so bad, just, all the time,” he said, drawing out the last three words like he was trying to sell this great product to Kevin through personal examples of its success, but all Kevin would feel in that moment was worry and a sneaking feeling that this meant more than he had realized at first.

“Connor, when did you stop having panic attacks?” he asked.

“I don’t know, when I was… twelve? Thirteen maybe? I started therapy at eleven so I didn’t really get the hang of it until-“

“I started having panic attacks when I was twelve,” Kevin said. “I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder in the summer after the sixth grade. Everyone thought it was because of hormones, puberty, messing up my head, making my brain produce the wrong chemicals, but it wasn’t, was it? It was you. You gave me your panic attacks.”

Connor’s smile dropped instantly into a look of quiet confusion. “No, I turned them off.”

“No, you didn’t. You just said ‘no thank you’ and shoved them across the bond to me! I don’t have anxiety, I have Connor McKinley.” He put his face in his hands and leaned back in the chair, entirely consumed by the realization that possibly every feeling he had ever had was just his long lost soulmate deciding he didn’t want it. “It’s like Dr. Smith said,” he said through his hands, pushing his chair back slowly with his feet, not bothering to look for where the desk was. “The energy has to go somewhere. You can’t just make it go away, it’s gotta go to one of us and you decided not to keep it so you sent it right on over to me.”

It was all getting to be too much and when he uncovered his face, Connor didn’t seem to be nearly as affected, which was just one more giant grain of salt in his rapidly opening wound. It made that fire flare up once more, a deep need for his anguish to be reflected back at him. “I could have had a normal life! I didn’t have to get hospitalized, I didn’t have to shame my parents, I didn’t have to fuck up everything I ever tried to do, but you made sure I did. We hadn’t even met yet and you ruined my life!”

Connor looked down at his hands.

“You know, I always thought there was something wrong with me, something deep inside my brain that was just broken. Maybe I was just overreacting to everything, but no,” Kevin continued. “I was reacting a perfectly reasonable amount for two fucking people.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor said, almost a whisper.

“Are you?” Kevin asked sharply. “Are you capable of that? Can you feel sorry or am I gonna get hit with that one in a couple of minutes too?”

“I didn’t know it would do that,” Connor said, louder now, but still not looking Kevin in the eye.

“And you know what’s really the worst?” Kevin continued, yelling by that point. “The worst part is I can feel it right now.” Now that he knew what it was, he could feel that only some of this anger and betrayal burning in his chest belonged to him. He was powerless against it and it turned to fury that he didn’t have any hope of containing because it was not his to contain. It was a familiar feeling, he had felt it many times before, and if he had hated it then, he despised it now. “Do you know what you’ve made me do to Arnold?” Kevin cried. “Do you know how I’ve treated him thanks to you?” He knew he was being unfair, on every level he knew, and for the first time in his life he knew why and somehow that made it okay, justified everything.

“It was your choice how you dealt with it,” Connor spat, finally full enough of anger that a tiny piece of it remained for him to use. “I never told you to yell at him or mistreat him, I never made that choice for you.”

“I wasn’t made for this anger! It’s not mine! I can’t handle something I was never supposed to have! God! Do you know how angry you are all the time?! Do you know how much hate you have?! It’s unbearable! How the hell was I supposed to live like this?!” He collapsed back in his seat, defeated, let out his hot breath and shook his head. Control it, he demanded of his mind, get it under control. He reached out for Connor’s hand and found it, felt it flinch beneath his own, but the touch dulled the anger, just like it always did. Made him feel almost okay. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, his own voice sounding broken to him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- I didn’t mean to suggest you did any of this on purpose, I know it wasn’t malicious. I’m just-“

“I know,” Connor replied. “Don’t worry about it, Kevin, I know.” He didn’t sound forgiving. He sounded bitter and unimpressed and Kevin felt that familiar guilt that always followed an outburst and somehow it was better that he wasn’t going to forgive him.

“Conversion therapy,” he mused quietly, and he scrubbed a hand over his face. “No wonder you’re not a Mormon anymore.”

They gave themselves a moment to collect their shattered selves before going and finding the doctor. She asked if they were okay, their hair messed, their faces still red with emotion, and they told her they were fine. “Have you decided what you are going to do?” she asked, reclaiming her seat.

“We’re going to see a therapist,” Kevin told her. They hadn’t discussed it, but clearly it was something they could both benefit from. Kevin needed this to stop.

“Would you like me to provide some names? There are several excellent therapists here at the hospital and a number throughout the city.”

“No, it’s fine, I already have one,” Kevin said with a wave of his hand. “I haven’t been to see him in a while, but… I guess it’s my turn to provide a doctor.” He glanced at Connor who didn’t return it. Kevin felt far to guilty for someone who didn’t even own all of the emotions he had been feeling. It was at least partially Connor’s fault and he was going to stick to that conviction. There were so many years of Kevin’s life he could never get back, lost to anxiety and anger and fear, so many experiences he had lost thanks to the things Connor had given him.

“We need to understand that we still don’t know how this happened,” the doctor was saying. “We understand the what, but the cause of this extra connection in both of your lives is currently a mystery. I would like to meet with both of you a few more times in the coming months to try and expand our knowledge on the subject. Run a few more tests and see if we can’t get to the bottom of it.”

“We can’t afford it.”

“No need to worry about that. Consider yourselves a part of a trial. You’ll pay us with advancements in knowledge.”

Experiment. It was a word that hung carelessly in the air over Dr. Smith’s excitement and made Kevin feel dirty. He would be an experiment and so would Connor

The memories of what Claudia, Gurdeep and Margaret had told them about the progression of their fame made their way to Kevin’s mind and he closed his eyes at the realization that although 50 years had passed since the trio’s experiences, not nearly enough had changed. They were destined to live out the same fame, the same medical treatment, the same commoditization, and there was nothing else they could do. They didn’t have a choice.


	12. Kevin Price Has a Bad Dream

Their first live broadcast interview was surprisingly unremarkable. Sitting in Kevin and Arnold’s living room, they set up their computer, prepped by a previous phone call with rehearsed questions, and all of them struggling to fit into the shot, they stumbled through. The same questions asked of them by reporters were asked, but now with more time given for elaborate answers. They were asked where they were when they discovered the connection and they answered as close to the truth as possible without venturing into the territory of incrimination. They touched hands over the drink Connor had prepared for Kevin in the kitchen. No one went upstairs, no lips were locked, there was a panic attack, but it was mild.

The most notable occurrence had been a moment when the four of them were asked to show their links all at once. Standing in a line they held hands, displaying the gradient of colour from gold to green to blue while Wade positioned the camera. It had been odd for Kevin to finally have all four of them connected at once. Arnold felt the same as ever, Connor was still entirely unreadable, but he could feel Chris’s presence, a moving, shimmering specter at the edge of his awareness. Chris admitted he could feel Kevin as well, but not Arnold, and they made note of it for the sake of Dr. Smith with whom they had a follow-up appointment the following week.

Once the interview was over they all agreed it had gone as smoothly as could be expected. One or two of the speculations they were informed about by the anchors they were easily able to disprove or dispute, and a few they could confirm. Overall, it had been a success.

Throughout, however, Kevin had felt nervous. With his newfound knowledge of Connor’s affects on him, he found himself wondering if that feeling of anxiety was his own or if it belonged to him. He found himself wondering that a lot those past few days. Sitting in class learning about secular humanism, the very topic he had written his entrance essay on, one he had a great deal of interest in, he spent his time thinking back to the major emotional events of his life. Had they really been his own or had they simply been misplaced?

It was a hard concept to come to terms with, the knowledge that any emotion he felt at any given moment could very well not be his. Did he even feel, he wondered, or had his body adapted to only feeling the things Connor wanted him to?

He ran the thought by Arnold one night as they ate a specialty quiche Arnold had been figuring out and watched a combination of cartoons and news clips about themselves. Arnold had laughed, a distinctive laugh he made whenever he was caught off guard by something, and tried his best to reassure Kevin whilst simultaneously making statements that anything was possible, that he had no idea, that it would make a lot of sense.

Kevin tried not to let it bother him, but when had that ever worked?

It was an impossible question to ask Connor, of course, due in part to the fact that the tension between them was at an all-time high. Kevin’s outburst in the doctor’s office along with the newfound information about Connor’s emotional rejection gave them each plenty to be irked about.

Chris was not informed.

The interviews became easier once they had developed a repertoire of reasonable responses and a practiced onscreen dynamic. Connor was excellent at pretending to like Kevin and Kevin was passable at pretending to like Connor. But the moment the cameras were off, they retreated to their familiar companions and existed together as little as possible.

A challenge arrived when they were invited to appear on a talk show and a news station based in New York. Not only did it mean a plane ride together and cohabitation in a hotel room provided by the network, but it was also to be the first interview in which Arnold and Chris could not be present.

“I’ve never been to New York before,” Kevin mentioned once they had left their soulmates behind at airport security.

“Me neither,” Connor replied.

And that was it. Silence reigned as they waited for their flight, broken only to mention trips to the bathroom or to nearby food stands. It was exactly what Kevin had been wanting for ages, but it was so unsettling that it made him wish for the old talkative Connor who could ramble on for ages about the simplest things. Not enough to try talking about it, of course, but enough to be uncomfortable.

When they arrived in New York there was a taxi waiting to take them to the hotel and Kevin made sure to take the front seat so as not to be forced to sit next to the icy silence of his partner.

It was a nice hotel, not expensive, but nice. “A lot better than that morning show in Provo, isn’t it?” Kevin said, wheeling his suitcase across the tiled floor of the entrance.

“Yeah,” Connor agreed, pulling along his own, shockingly pink, suitcase.

The concierge provided them with keys and they arrived in their room shortly after nightfall. It was a spacious room with two large beds and a mini-fridge Kevin intended to raid at his nearest possible convenience. Out the window was just a lot of buildings, their floor not quite high enough to see over the tops of the other hotels and businesses in the area.

“They should have given us two rooms,” Connor said, and Kevin turned to find him gazing with loathing at the beds, side by side in matching red and gold duvets.

For ages now, Kevin had been feeling that fire in his abdomen, the same one that always grew to consume him at the smallest slight, one which he was growing to recognize as Connor’s unacknowledged moods. It had been some work to control them, Connor’s cold shoulder making his skin nearly inaccessible to Kevin, but he managed, being too caught up in worrying about his own emotional distress to get angry about much.

“It’s only for a few nights,” Kevin told him. “Then we can go back to being friends for the cameras. You don’t even have to look at me while we’re here, I can sleep facing the wall.”

“It’s just a little presumptuous of them.”

“Hey, at least they’re paying. Could you imagine if they expected us to take care of all this? I had to call in to work this weekend to be on this show, money isn’t exactly rolling in.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” He threw his suitcase onto the bed closest to the door and then flopped down next to it with a huff.

Kevin set his suitcase down next to the other bed and stood awkwardly for a moment before saying. “I’m going to go grab something to eat, find a restaurant or something.”

“Okay.”

“Do you… want me to bring you something or…? We didn’t really eat much today, you should probably-“

“No, I’m fine, thanks. We’ve got that news spot tomorrow, I’ll probably go to bed early.”

They were hours ahead of Utah’s timezone, only a couple, but still it was fairly early. But it had been a long and boring flight, so it wasn’t ridiculous to think that Connor might be tired even though Kevin knew with some certainty that sleep wasn’t the reason he was being so distant.

But he outwardly took it at face value and took the time to wander the street for a while. It was good to be outside, even if it did stink of city smog, and Kevin’s travels had been fairly limited in his life, Florida and Uganda being the major destinations he had explored, family visits and out of state funerals notwithstanding. They weren’t in a particularly nice part of New York, and the buildings were densely packed together, full of shadowy alleyways and greasy spoon diners, none of which looked particularly appetizing. But he managed to find a hold-in-the-wall establishment that didn’t look too infectious and made a mental note to walk the other direction down the street the next day, or even simply get room service.

When he returned to the hotel an hour or two later Connor was gone, so he turned on the TV and watched a house-flipping show, hoping simultaneously that Connor would come back and that he wouldn’t. The longer he stayed up the more he began to notice an odd feeling. It was one he had felt before, but it took him a moment to place it. It wasn’t until he tried to check in on Arnold that he recognized it as the same dulled disconnection that he had felt the last time he had seen Connor drink.

He was concerned and annoyed, but most of all he wanted to be able to ignore the feeling, so Kevin called Arnold and caught up with him for a while until it was late enough to try to sleep. But now that he had heard Arnold’s voice, was unable to feel him in his mind, knew he wasn’t just across the hall, Kevin missed him. They hadn’t been apart for more than a week, not since the event of the previous year, and it was oddly difficult to sleep without that reassuring presence.

Kevin was just starting to drift off when Connor arrived. He didn’t turn on the light, simply kicked off his shoes and brushed his teeth before crawling into bed. At least he had the decency not to disrupt his temporary roommate who was careful not to give any indication he was still awake. Soon, Connor was gently snoring and Kevin was finally able to slip into peaceful oblivion.

That night he had a dream.

There was a man in his dream, a man he didn’t recognize. He knew the man, knew he had met the man before, but he could not place where. The man was sitting opposite him in a room full of bookcases that stood taller than the sky and a clock that counted out the time on a nearby wall without making a sound. The man was staring at him, hands clasped, wearing a suit like he was all business, but leaning forward as though to tell a secret. He was a familiar presence. He was a frightening presence.

He was speaking in an English that Kevin couldn’t understand, his voice low and clear, but the words would not catch properly on his ears. The man seemed to grow frustrated with this. He scowled and Kevin’s heart began to speed up. The man stood from his seat, suddenly 9 feet tall, imposing and steeply lit. He was suddenly next to Kevin, though he made no move, and sharply turned the seat Kevin was in to face the other side of the room.

There was a boy. It was a boy he knew, but did not recognize. It was a boy who filled his stomach with dread and made the nerves on the back of his neck light up. The boy, no more than 10, became a man, no less than 20. He had the same face, but older, the same mouth, but no longer smiling. Distrust in his eyes, distain on his lips, sand beneath his feet, sun on his face. The room was gone. The chair Kevin sat in was still there, as was the man who had turned it, as was the boy who was now a man. Sand replaced the floor, lapping with water from somewhere unseen. An endless beach that faded up into a grey sky.

Kevin tried to move. He needed to get to the boy who was now a man, he needed to get out of the water, but he was held down in his seat by his own body.

There was a hand at his back. It wasn’t the man, it wasn’t the boy who was now a man, it was someone else or possibly no one. He couldn’t turn his head to look. More hands began to join that one, all of them caressing his shoulders, his sides, his chest, his legs, his hair, though the original stayed still as stone. It was that still hand that frightened him the most, shredding his heart with terror, making the world close in around him, that hand, darkening the sky, making the face of the man who was now a boy turn from a look of distrust and distain to a look of disgust and fear.

He couldn’t move. He used all of his energy trying to move, poured every ounce of strength and determination into turning around to look behind him at whoever owned that hand, but he couldn’t. The hands moving across his body were becoming more insistent, pulling at his hair, tugging his clothes, pushing at his chest, almost painful in their caressing. Then a hand found it’s way under his chin and turned his head for him so that he was now looking into the face of Kevin Price.

Kevin woke up with a start.

The room was pitch black with the shades drawn, but slowly his eyes grew accustomed even as his racing heart began to slow. For a moment he lay there in silence, collecting himself, trying to stop from shaking, and tried to remind himself that although Arnold was not there, he was safe.

A noise came from the other bed, a small gasp as Connor woke up as well. There was a moment of silence followed by rustling sheets and then the gentle sound of someone crying.

Kevin’s back was turned to Connor, but he listened to the muffled sobs, trying to make sense of it all with his sleep-muddled mind. All he could think was that Connor had had a bad dream as well. Connor was crying. Connor was scared. Connor didn’t have an Arnold to comfort him.

It was that thought that made him roll over. Connor’s hands were pressed against his eyes, teeth gritted against the sobs, chest heaving and shaking and he tried to suppress it. By now Kevin was feeling much better. He had stopped shaking, his heart had slowed, though it was still pounding, and the fear had yet to subside. But there was clarity in it, in watching Connor fall apart over something he clearly wasn’t able to turn off.

Without a word, Kevin slipped out of bed and into Connor’s. He reached out in the darkness and pulled Connor to him, letting him cry into his chest. He stroked his hair and listened to his tears subside into trembling breaths until eventually those too calmed.

Green light lit the room in a way Kevin wasn’t used to. It felt wrong for the light to be green, to be the one calming instead of being calmed. But his drowsy mind and heavy limbs told him it was okay. Everything was going to be fine.

When he woke up the next morning, Kevin’s head was resting on Connor’s chest, wrapped loosely around his torso and gently held by a single possessive arm. Cold morning light was slipping in around the closed blinds and according to the clock it was coming up on eight. The gentle rise and fall of Connor’s chest told him he was still asleep, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes.

Carefully, he extracted himself from the embrace, but the movement was enough that Connor sucked in a breath and stretched, blinking against the sun. Kevin sat on the edge of the bed, not wanting to see Connor’s face when he realized they had slept in the same bed that night, feeling oddly guilty as the mattress moved behind him.

For a moment they both sat still and though Kevin couldn’t see Connor’s face he knew he was looking at him.

“Thank you,” Connor said softly.

Kevin nodded. “Yeah,” he replied.

He stayed where he was, didn’t dare to turn around, until Connor had left the bed and he heard the shower turn on. Then he lowered his head into his hands and groaned.

When had life gotten so complicated? When had he taken the turn from student into whatever the hell he was now?

He went over to the window and drew the blinds, quickly reminded of the disappointing view they had been given. Then he checked his phone, no messages, and rummaged about in his suitcase, checking and double-checking that he had everything he would need, something he had done two or three times the previous night.

When Connor emerged from the bathroom looking sheepish with a towel around his waist, Kevin retreated to a shower as well, hoping the soap could get rid of the unsettled feelings piling up in his chest.

There was a breakfast buffet on the first floor, so the silent pair descended together and ate while making as little eye contact as possible before immediately returning to their room.

They had two shows to do that weekend, the first being a news segment that afternoon and the second being two days away with a well-known talk show they had been in communications with for over a week. It gave them plenty of time to sit awkwardly in their hotel room, pretending to watch television and making the most reserved attempts at conversation.

Stretched out in their respective beds, they flipped through channels until it was time to get ready and they donned their suits.

“Is that your only suit?” Connor asked when Kevin emerged from the bathroom.

It surprised Kevin enough that he looked down at himself trying to see if there was something wrong with it. “Yeah?” He looked up at Connor who was intensely examining the clothes, hand on hip, tie in hand. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing really, it’s just sort of… bland.”

“It’s grey, grey is good for all occasions.”

“Navy suits are good for all occasions. Grey suits are good for business men who have given up on their lives.”

Kevin happened to think it was a pretty nice suit. His father had bought it for him when he went on his mission and it had suited his needs nicely; fit him well, felt comfortable. What more could he need?

“Here,” Connor said, tossing Kevin his tie. “Put this on instead. At least it’ll add some colour.”

“Don’t you need a tie?”

“I brought two. I was going to wear a different one for each interview, but I think I can survive on just the one.”

As Connor ducked back into his suitcase to look for the other tie, Kevin looked down at the one he had been given and smiled. “It’s blue,” he said.

Connor gave him a curious look. “Yes, it is,” he said.

“I like blue,” Kevin muttered as he removed his own tie.

“Everyone likes blue.” He reemerged holding a new tie, which was a lighter shade of blue than the one he had given Kevin and was lacking the embroidered patterns that were only visible in certain light.

“This is a really nice tie, are you sure I can use it?”

“You using that tie is for both of our sakes,” Connor replied as he tied his own. “Besides, this one wouldn’t suit you at all. You need darker colours for that suit and your complexion.”

“You really know a lot about suits.”

“Wardrobe assistant, remember? I’ve costumed more actors than you’ve read philosophers.” Tie adorned, he went into the bathroom to examine himself in the mirror. “And besides that, I just have taste.”

Kevin’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. He picked it up, checked the name, then denied the call. He stood for a moment, looking down at his dark phone, listening to Connor doing whatever it was he was doing in the bathroom, feeling conflicted.

The tension had lessened with their conversation and Kevin knew it would probably benefit him to leave well enough alone and simply enjoy the atmosphere while it lasted, but he also knew he may not have the window again to talk beyond a few syllables without tempting fate.

“Connor… About last night…” he said, flattening down his shirt nervously.

Connor stilled. “What about last night?” he asked.

“I just want to make sure that… that you’re okay.”

Connor came halfway out of the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe looking clean-cut and precise and a little timid. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine, Kevin. It’s not a big deal, I just get nightmares sometimes, they usually don’t… Well, they’re usually not that big of an issue.” He ducked his head and cleared his throat. “Thank you again for what you did. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“You didn’t wake me up,” Kevin admitted. “I get nightmares too, pretty much every night.” Connor looked up at him wide-eyed. “I know what it’s like and I know it can be hard when there’s no one there to help you. I have a hard time whenever Arnold’s not around, he usually does that for me. Helps me through it.”

“You get bad dreams every night?” Connor repeated, the crease in his brow growing more pronounced. “Oh, God, Kevin, I’m sorry.”

Kevin felt confused only for a moment before he realized what Connor was apologizing for. “They’re from you, aren’t they?” he said. Of course they were. Wasn’t everything?

“Kevin, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to.” He looked distressed and a little scared, but also resigned and tired and Kevin was surprised to find that he didn’t mind. The fire wasn’t growing, the anger didn’t build, he only felt sad. Sad for Connor, sad that this was his life, that he had to deal with this every day and there was nothing he could do about it.

Kevin had the benefit of the connection to at least suppress a little of the fear and the imagery and everything else that was being shared with him. But Connor had to experience it all full-force. He had no choice. And Kevin felt pity.

“That’s okay, Connor. I’m sorry you have to deal with that every night. It must be terrible.”

Connor looked up at him suspiciously. “You’re not mad. Why aren’t you mad?”

Kevin shrugged and sat down on his bed, running his fingers over the buttons on the side of his phone case. “I think I’m getting used to all of it,” he said. “I think it’s all just sort of… the way things are now. Neither of us can really do anything about it so why get mad?”

Connor came into the room fully and cautiously made his way to his own bed, sitting down to face Kevin with distrust burning in his features. “That’s a very odd stance for you to be taking.”

“Getting angry isn’t going to do anything. You’re not doing it on purpose, so yelling at you won’t make it stop. I think, maybe, I don’t want to be mad anymore. I never really wanted to be mad, but now… it seems kind of pointless. I don’t really have the energy for it anymore.”

“Are you okay?”

“I feel guilty. Or maybe you feel guilty?”

“I think it might be both of us.”

They gazed at one another for a long moment, both wearied and neither possessing the energy to sit through a televised interview. But they were expected. They had agreed and signed off and gone through the preliminary interview and now they had no choice.

“Do you think they would notice if we didn’t show up?” Kevin asked.

Connor smirked. “The world isn’t that kind.”

They did last minute once-overs, brushed their teeth, came to agreements on answers and went out to the street where a car was waiting to take them to the studio.

It was nice to be with the reporters in person for a change. Until that point, their televised interviews had been limited to small computer screens and a broadcasting station in Provo while the news anchors called it in from a different state. But now they were able to shake hands, exchange polite conversation watch the lead up, and it all made it more real somehow. It was as though all of their previous interactions with the news, be it television, newspapers, radio, had been leading to some other world, another universe where they didn’t have to worry about coming off as young and inexperienced. Now there was no other reality to face.

Kevin felt nervous, the kind of nervous where he knew a lot of it was not his own, but he kept himself in check, helped by the fact that Connor was ever the picture of composition, though he was less prolific than would have been expected. They balanced well, as soulmates should, and were able to banter with the anchors in a way that separate studios and broadcasting lag hadn’t allowed for before.

Their other soulmates were asked after, how were they dealing with it, was there any issue in the new dynamic, the same questions they were always asked. The picture of the four of them, lined up and glowing, was displayed. It was a fast-growing icon for their public image and Kevin was amazed that he had a public image.

They were asked to demonstrate the connection and as always there were “ooh’s” and “ah’s” at the green smoke.

Once the interview was over they were thanked and hands were shaken, and they came away feeling a little dazed, but secure.

“You would think the public would have something else to talk about,” Connor muttered as they rode in the cab back to the hotel. It was dark outside now, the lights of the city growing less and less impressive the closer they got to their destination.

Kevin’s reflection stared back at him in the window, ghostly and beautiful. “We’re new. We’re interesting. No one wants to talk about politics all the time.”

“I suppose that’s true, but I really feel like they’re taking this farther than it needs to go.”

“Do you think we’ll wind up in the Guinness Book of World Records?” Kevin asked

Connor leaned his head against the window. The soft lighting and intermittent streetlights made his pale skin glow and Kevin found himself staring. “Hm, maybe,” Connor replied. “Ripley’s Believe it or Not at the very least. They really like that one picture of us, I wouldn’t be surprised if it wound up in there somewhere.”

Kevin nodded. “I used to have a bunch of those as a kid. I always liked the body abnormalities.”

“What, like that girl with the tail?”

“Yeah, I thought they were so cool.”

Connor shook his head. “All those poor people being made into spectacles. It must have been so hard in everyday life.”

“I think we’re finding out what it’s like in everyday life.”

“But we’re not, not really. We can just lead normal lives, it doesn’t affect us that much when you think about it. But those people with the super long fingernails… How are you supposed to use a computer? A phone? It just seems very impractical.”

“I thought you were feeling sorry for them.”

“I was, but you have to admit, some of it is just poor choices.”

Kevin’s phone rang and when he pulled it out he smiled at the caller ID. He answered on speaker. “Hey Arnold,” he said.

“Kevin! Chris and I were watching the interview, you guys did so great!” Arnold shouted.

“You both looked really good out there,” Chris agreed, his voice bringing a smile to Connor’s face.

“Hey, Chris,” he said warmly. “I miss you.”

“We miss you guys too!” Arnold replied for the both of them. “It’s so weird having the place to myself for once, it’s so empty!”

“It’s weird being away from you too,” Kevin said. “Did you guys like the show?”

“You were awesome!”

“You were both super put together, we were impressed,” Chris said, his reedy voice made reedier by the phone connection. “You were like real professionals.”

“What’s your hotel like?” Arnold asked eagerly, barely waiting for Chris to finish speaking.

“It’s nice,” Connor told him. “Not a great view, but it’s comfortable.”

“Does it have a pool?”

Connor shot Kevin an amused smile. “No, it doesn’t. But it has a breakfast bar.”

“God, you guys are so lucky.”

“You would really like it, Arnold, I wish you could’ve come with us,” Kevin said.

“No way, they only want you two out there, you’re the stars!”

“We wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for you two.”

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush. Oh! Hey! Nautica is here too! Say hi Nautica!”

Distantly they could hear Nabulungi call out a “hello” and as Arnold continued to rabble on endlessly, Kevin was struck by a sudden and intense feeling of homesickness.

Even after their conversation had ended and the cab arrived at the hotel, even after they went up to their room and changed into more comfortable clothing, Kevin felt a deep sense of longing. He had never been away from Arnold very much, and even though it had only been a day, he missed him.

“Do you miss Chris?” he asked Connor as the latter brushed his teeth. He needed to know he wasn’t alone in this, that it was normal to miss someone so much after such a short period of separation.

“A little,” Connor said around the foam. He spit. “It hasn’t really been that long and he goes home a lot during he school year anyways, I’m pretty used to it.”

Kevin hummed.

Connor emerged from the bathroom, wiping his face with a towel. “Why? Do you miss Arnold?”

“Yeah” he admitted. “It’s kind of dumb, though, it’s not like we’ve been gone for ages.”

Connor considered Kevin where he lay on his bed, fiddling with the remote to a muted TV. “You and Arnold don’t really go far without each other do you?”

Kevin smiled at him. “Not really, no. We don’t really have anyone else so it’s kind of weird not to have him around.”

An infomercial played silently on screen and Kevin kept his eyes trained on it even as he felt Connor’s scrutiny from across the room. “No family?”

“No, we do have family, but I think Arnold said it before: we’re kind of disgraces. They’re not too proud of us.”

“I’m going to guess that’s because of what happened on your mission.”

Kevin looked up at him sharply and found Connor’s gaze to be open and kind. “You know about that?”

“You told me at the party, remember?”

Oh yeah. It felt like years ago now that they had found one another at that house in the suburbs. Really it had only been a month or so. Things had been so different back then, the situation and themselves, and Kevin had a hard time remembering exactly who he had been at that point.

“I still plan on getting that story from you someday,” Connor said as he reentered the bathroom. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that.”

“No, I haven’t”

That night Kevin dreamed about drowning. The hands pulling him down, the icy embrace of the water, the deep darkness below him that slowly consumed his lungs. He woke up gasping, grateful and terrified to have his air back, and sat up, trying to shake the sleep from his body.

Connor was still asleep, but moments later he too gasped awake. He lay still for a moment before rising in his bed and looking over at Kevin’s dark frame. “I’m sorry,” he said in a shaky whisper.

Silently, Kevin slid out of his bed and crawled in next to Connor, just as he had the night before, and held him close until the two of them fell back asleep.

The next morning when he woke up, Kevin was once again laying on Connor’s chest, an arm around him and the gentle rise and fall beneath him. He considered pulling away to return to his own bed, it was still early enough that he could go back to sleep, but after a moment he decided it would be best to let Connor rest. So he pulled himself in closer and shut his eyes.


	13. Kevin Price Has a Brunch Date

“What’s your favourite kind of flower?”

Kevin looked up from his plate, eyebrows raised. Connor was gazing at him from across the table with gentle curiosity etched into his features.

After getting up that morning, another uncomfortable and self-conscious experience, they had come to the conclusion that without any preexisting engagements for the day, they may as well take it slow. After a few hours of laying about and cleaning themselves up, they had gone out for brunch, driven by empty stomachs and an interest in the surrounding area.

“Google says there’s a place just a few minutes walk from here, has good reviews,” Connor had said, and so they had walked, in the opposite direction Kevin had gone two days previously, and wound up at a table on the second floor of a small all-day breakfast joint. The walls were pale and luminous in the light that flooded in from the grand windows they were sat next to. The building was clearly one of the older ones in the neighbourhood and well maintained, but all Kevin could really appreciate in the moment was the cup of coffee the server had set before him.

Now, eating their meals (an omelet for Connor and eggs Florentine for Kevin) they alternated between gazing out at the grimy storefront across the way and engaging in innocent conversation. Although, the question posed by Connor was a sharp turn from their previous discussion of the quality of their toast.

“What do you mean?” Kevin replied.

“You work in a flower shop,” Connor told him, pushing a piece of red pepper around on his plate absently, “stands to reason you’d have a favourite.”

“No, I get that, but why are you asking?”

Connor shrugged and diverted his gaze to the mobile vegetable. “We’re going on a talk show tomorrow, it’ll be different from a news show. News shows are all about facts and reporting information, but talk shows are more about getting to know people, you know? I figure it makes sense that we should get to know each other more before we have to pretend like we know each other in front of a camera.”

The reasoning made sense to Kevin, but it was pretty weak and he was fairly certain that if it came to it they would have been able to fake their way through any sort of interview at this point. But instead of saying so, he nodded and lifted his mug and before he took a sip he said, “I like sunflowers.”

Connor smiled at him, grateful for the cooperation. Kevin didn’t mean to be difficult, but he had a habit of being stubborn and in previous weeks his anger had gotten aggressively in the way and cooperation hadn’t been in his interest. To be fair, though, Connor seemed to be just as strong willed, he was just better at concealing it behind a smile.

“Sunflowers are nice,” Connor said, the sunlight illuminating his eyes to the point where the blue was nearly white. “I like irises. Especially the purple ones.”

“Not lilies?”

He laughed. “No, not lilies. They’re okay, but they don’t have as much character as irises. Orchids are nice too, but I feel like my mother saying that.”

“Do you really think this is what they’re going to be asking us tomorrow?” Kevin said dubiously. “What kind of flowers we like?”

“Not so much, no,” Connor conceded. “But it’s as good a place to start as any. I know you work with flowers, seems like a reasonable jumping off point. An icebreaker, if you will.”

“I work with plants, not just flowers,” Kevin corrected him, carving off another slice of egg. It wasn’t the best egg Florentine he had ever had, but the atmosphere was obviously more of what the business was going for. “It’s like saying you work with novels at the library. There’s more to it than that.”

“You also work with dirt, but I’m not calling it a soil emporium,” Connor joked. Kevin smiled in spite of himself. “Well, go on, then, ask me a question.”

Kevin thought briefly before deciding to follow the trend Connor had set for them. “What’s your favourite novel?”

Connor sat back in his seat to seriously consider it. Clearly he never did anything casually, so Kevin sighed and busied himself with his food. “That’s a really hard question,” Connor said, “because there’s all sorts of books, aren’t there? Science fiction, fantasy, historical fiction, realism, magic realism-“

“It’s really not that complicated, Connor.”

“It is when you read a lot.”

“And do you read a lot?”

“Not as much as I should.” He drummed his fingers against the table and studied the street beyond the window, looking for an answer as Kevin waiting impatiently. “I really like Going Bovine,” he said at last.

“Going what?”

“Going Bovine. It’s about this kid who gets mad cow disease and he goes on this whole journey, but it’s all in his head while he’s in the hospital sick.”

“Sounds depressing.”

“It’s really not, not until the end. How about you?”

Kevin sighed again and thought for considerably less time than Connor had before saying, “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.” Connor scoffed. “What?”

“That’s the book people say when they don’t want to really think about it or they just don’t read.”

“I do read, and I happen to like that book. It’s interesting.”

“And what’s your favourite part?”

Kevin floundered for a moment as Connor looked on with smug satisfaction. “The bits with Edmund and the witch. The moral issue of the Turkish delight.”

“Have you read a book since you were twelve?”

Kevin shook his head and turned to his brunch with renewed interest. “I read plenty, thanks, I just happen to really like C. S. Lewis.”

Connor nodded patronizingly and Kevin decided he wasn’t caffeinated enough for this. Somewhere in the street below, a car honked long and loud and Connor was forced to wait for it to finish before he asked his next question. “What’s your favourite movie?”

“E.T. What’s yours?”

“Casablanca.” He waited for another long moment, watching Kevin eat and drink, eyebrows slowly rising until finally he threw his arms open. “I’m not going to field all the questions here. Hit me, Price, keep the ball rolling.”

“I came here for brunch, not an interrogation.”

“You knew what you were getting into when you decided to sit down with me,” Connor replied condescendingly. At least it was good to know he was self aware, Kevin thought to himself, made it a little easier to bear. “Come on, ask me a question. Even if it doesn’t make a difference, at least we’ll be talking about something.”

The icy silence of their first day there was like a beautiful memory, the guilt and concern notwithstanding, and Kevin wished there existed a middle ground somewhere. But Connor clearly didn’t take anything between none and all. Kevin hated to think how similar they were in that respect. In many respects, actually. Sometimes it seemed their similarities outweighed their differences, but he would never point it out for fear of striking up an unwanted conversation or giving the impression he thought it was a good thing. Connor wasn’t a bad person, no matter what he had done unintentionally in the past, but he wasn’t a person Kevin wanted to be grouped with. “What’s your favourite colour?” he settled on.

Connor rolled his eyes, but accepted the question as an attempt. “Green, ironically enough.”

“Ironically…” Kevin began before he brain caught up and he got the reference with a smirk and a hum. “I like blue,” he said.

“Because of Arnold?”

“I guess so, yeah. It’s a good colour. Makes me feel good.”

“Can’t argue with that. Okay, go on, another question.” He gestured for Kevin to continue and Kevin looked at him, perplexed.

“Isn’t it your turn?”

“Yes, but I think you can do a lot better than, ‘what’s your favourite colour’.”

Kevin groaned and rolled his eyes, but the look on Connor’s face said that he would not be swayed, so he resigned himself to the situation and scoured his brain for any information he could possibly want from Connor.

A question popped into his mind, entirely of it’s own accord, one he had thought up ages ago for a moment just like this. It had been concocted in the stress of a new friendship and possibly more, but it was also tailor-made for Connor and it would satisfy his demands. “What made you want to be an actor?”

It seemed to catch Connor a little off guard and he raised his eyebrows before letting his eyes search the air for a reply. “I’m not sure,” he said softly, and Kevin gladly took the quiet as an opportunity to continue his meal. “I guess it’s the appeal of becoming another person, you know? Of having everything you need to say written down for you, every move you make given to you by a director. Takes a lot of pressure off of existing. Leaving behind who you are is pretty enticing too. I spent a lot of time as a kid wishing I were someone else.”

“Makes sense,” Kevin said through a mouthful of toast. “I think a lot of people wish they were someone else.”

“Do you?”

He swallowed and frowned. “Um… sometimes. I did a lot when I was freaking out, you know? Wished things were different. Easier. As a kid I was pretty focused on not embarrassing my family, I didn’t really have time to think about existential stuff like that. And I already had a lot of people telling me what to do, who to be, how to think, I didn’t even consider the possibility of being someone else.”

He could feel concern and pity rising in his chest and looked up to find those emotions reflected perfectly in the face of his companion. “Well, you’re a pretty good actor if you can make yourself look exactly how you’re making me feel.”

“I’ve said before, I still feel things, Kevin, just not everything.”

“Well, stop feeling that,” Kevin commanded. “I don’t need you feeling sorry for me, things have changed. I’m not as miserable and constrained as I once was.” Not in the same ways, at least.

“Me neither.”

“You still became an actor, though. There must have been something you wanted to escape from.”

A look of confusion and then realization passed over Connor’s features and he said, “I’m not an actor.” Kevin looked up sharply, the question clear on his face. “I’m a stage manager, Kevin, I’m not in the acting stream. I gave up on being an actor years ago. Still love doing it, but it’s just not realistic, you know?”

“You said you were going to be on Broadway someday. You said all kinds of things about acting back when we first met, how are you not an actor?”

“I said I wanted to be on Broadway. I didn’t say it was actually going to happen.” Connor picked up his fork once again and cut off a piece of the omelet he had been neglecting, but didn’t pick it up, just pushed it around distractedly. “Plenty of people have dreams they don’t follow. I can act and I can dance and I can sing, doesn’t mean I’m going to actually do those things.”

“Why not?”

Connor looked up at Kevin and smile sheepishly. “Stage fright,” he admitted. “There’s one thing I could never shut off. The big crowd staring at me while I tried to remember what I was meant to say, the other actors waiting for me to get the line out, the lights blinding me and making the stage way too hot, it just really got to me. I haven’t acted since I was in high school and even then I was throwing up the second I got off stage.”

Kevin tried desperately not to remember the episodes he had suffered in high school, the panic and the fear that seemed to come from nowhere. He tried not to increase the blame he harbored, both for his sake and for Connor’s. “But you’re still in the drama program.”

“Oh, yeah,” Connor said, his smile becoming a smirk and he pierced the egg with his fork. “I still love theatre, even if I can’t act anymore. I’m in the production concentration so I can still be a part of the process, still attend rehearsals and help make the story happen. And being stage manager I get to boss people around and make decisions, which is arguably way better.”

Kevin could see it clearer than he would care to mention. Every time Connor had taken charge of a situation while Kevin was panicking, shouting out orders and keeping a level head, it made sense. He was trained for it, built a degree out of it, and it seemed all very much the opposite of what Kevin had decided to make of his life. Kevin who sat back and let people make decisions for him, who left the level headedness to the people like Connor, who was still attending a Church he didn’t believe in because it was easier than choosing not to.

There was a certain amount of shame he felt, quite suddenly, when he realized that in spite of his neuroses and disastrous emotional functioning, Connor was more in control of his life than Kevin could ever hope to be. Wasn’t dependent on his soulmate for everything, wasn’t relying on family money for his education, wasn’t losing his mind every time something went just a little bit wrong. He tried not to let it get to him, tried not to hate Connor for it, but it did hurt and it did make his face flush in a way he hoped wasn’t noticeable.

“Sounds like it would suit you,” he told Connor, trying to conceal his face behind his coffee cup. Thankfully, Connor chose that moment to gaze out the window and Kevin was spared the embarrassment. “I think it’s your turn to ask a question.”

Connor bit his lip and squinted, thinking hard, and Kevin willed the heat in his face to fade. “Why do you care so much what other people think of you?”

Kevin very nearly groaned. He was definitely not caffeinated enough for this. “I don’t know,” he replied, slumping in his seat and grimacing at the unpleasant nature of the question. “I was raised that way, I guess. Image is important to Mormon families, and I was the second of six kids, there were high expectations. I really don’t know, it’s not the kind of thing you can compress down to one reason.”

Connor nodded, eyes still fixed on some sight beyond the glass. “I get that.” His voice was distant and Kevin was fairly convinced his mind was set on other things.

“Do you miss acting?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Every time I watch an actor onstage I want to badly to be them. I hate not being able to do it anymore, I miss being able to pretend to be someone else for a while.”

“You could always try again.”

“No,” Connor muttered with a slight shake of his head. “I know it would just be the same. Maybe even worse. And now that we know about each other…” He finally returned Kevin’s gaze and it wasn’t a happy one. “I really don’t want to put you through that again.”

Kevin studied Connor’s face. “Do you wish we’d never found each other?”

Connor laughed and looked down again, lifting his fork to hold the egg just before his mouth. “I think it’s my turn to ask a question.” He put the egg in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a long moment, leaving Kevin to stew over what the answer to his question could possibly be. “You ever have any pets?”

His features were as schooled as ever, or it was possible he simply wasn’t feeling any sort of way toward Kevin’s unanswered question, but Kevin let it drift away as the more mundane inquiry took priority. “I used to have a goldfish named Egg. And I grew up with cats.”

“I’m sorry, Egg?”

“I was eight.”

“That doesn’t explain it in the slightest.”

“He was one of those fancy goldfish, the really fat ones, and he looked like an egg.”

Connor conceded. “I can’t argue with that logic, but I’m definitely going to remember it for a long time.”

“Glad to make an impression.”

“What’s your next question then?”

Kevin thought, trying to pick out any one thing about Connor he could that would be question-worthy. Every time he learned something new about the man it only unearthed more mysteries, but when confronted with the opportunity to really dig into those mysteries he was coming up empty. But of course, there was the cause of their newfound comfort with each other.

“What are your nightmares about?”

Discomfort welled up in his stomach, Connor’s response to the question, no doubt, and he felt a little remorseful at eliciting such a feeling. Perhaps it was too personal, maybe he should take it back. But Connor didn’t seem deterred as he answered, “A lot of things. My family, my old therapist, past crushes and relationships, money, school, whatever my brain feels like dredging up at the time. What are yours about?”

“I don’t usually remember them,” he admitted, still mulling over the implication of Connor’s answer. Out of two of the three times he had born witness to Connor’s subconscious, he himself had made an appearance. What category did he fall into on Connor’s list of worries? “I remember the past two nights, probably because we’re sleeping in the same room, and I remember having one ages ago, but I forget what exactly it was about. I suspect I dream whatever you dream.”

“But you have nightmares every night,” Connor said incredulously. “You don’t remember them?”

“No. I feel scared, I wake up all panicky, but once I wake up I don’t remember a thing.”

Envy gave way as relief flushed hot in Kevin’s mind, clearly Connor’s, and he wondered what it could possibly be for? How many dreams had Kevin featured in that he wasn’t privy to? He elected not to ask that question, reasoning that it was probably just a little deeper into personal territory than he should be venturing over brunch. Instead he asked:

“Why do you still have the lily?”

There was a beat wherein Connor could only look at Kevin in surprise as Kevin took a sip of his coffee. It had been in and out of his mind since he had first spotted it in Connor’s apartment, sitting bold as brass on a squat round table in the corner looking healthier than it had any right to be. But considering their delicate situation, he had neglected to bring it up. But now Connor was furrowing his brow and Kevin’s mug hesitated on its journey back to the tabletop.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Connor asked.

“Well, for one thing, you told me it was dead.”

His eyes closed and his head tilted back a little as he remembered the anxious moment he had conveyed the loss, and then they opened again and he smiled. “I did, didn’t I? Clearly, I was lying.”

“Clearly.”

“I was pretty wound up in that moment, if you’ll recall, and you were stalling. I just wanted you to get on with it, nothing malicious about it.”

Kevin had expected it to be as simple as that so he nodded and turned his attention back to his plate. Connor’s was still very full, hardly touched, but Kevin’s was nearly empty by now. “You should eat more.”

“I’m not hungry. You know colleges don’t usually have valedictorians, right?”

“Is that your question or are you just making conversation?”

“It’s my question.”

“Most colleges don’t have them,” Kevin agreed, mopping up some hollandaise sauce with the remains of his toast. “But ours does. It’s not common, but we’ve got one and I’m going to be it.”

“You’re so certain about that.”

“I’ve worked hard for it,” Kevin said. Every year he had taken an overloaded schedule, accompanied with a part time job and, every year up until this one, volunteer work with his professors. Anything to get noticed. “It’s tough competition, especially with those kids in biochemistry – science department’s bursting with opportunities to participate in extracurricular experiments and studies – but it’s mostly about confidence.”

“You’re certainly not lacking in that department.”

Kevin gave him a bemused look. “You wasted your question.”

“I think it was very informative,” Connor replied, leaning back in his seat.

“I’ll waste one in return. Do you have any pets?”

Connor smiled again and bit his lip, leg bouncing lightly under the table. The mundane questions seemed to elicit the more vibrant responses from him, a phenomena Kevin didn’t forget to note, almost like it was an act he put on, one that important questions caused him to forget. For a person who had stage fright, he certainly wasn’t afraid to perform during everyday life.

“I don’t anymore, I wouldn’t be around enough to take care of one. Plants are way less demanding. But when I was a kid my family had this dog, a spaniel of some kind, named Queenie. She hated me. I was scared of dogs for years after she died, but I can tolerate them now. Not a big fan, though.”

“I was bitten by a dog once,” Kevin said, earning Connor’s interest. “This great beast of a thing that lived down the street from me when I was growing up. I was always scared of him, he would lunge at me when I walked to school, but he was always tied up so I just got a scare. But one day the rope broke.”

“And what happened?”

“I got stitches and he got put down.”

“That’s such a shame,” Connor lamented. When he caught sight of the look of surprise on Kevin’s face he hurried to explain. “No dog is born mean, they just have bad owners. Like people, it’s all about how they’re raised. If I was chained up in a yard every day instead of being taken care of I would probably want to bite someone too. Some people just shouldn’t have dogs.”

“Some people just shouldn’t have kids.”

Connor grimaced and nodded and took a sip of his orange juice. Kevin could never get used to seeing him looking somber. No matter how false the sunshiny demeanor he put on, it was disturbing to see what lay behind it, a spectacle that Kevin had been graced with several times that morning already. He wasn’t ready to understand the depth of it. But at the same time, he was dying to know the secrets that were locked behind that smile.

“It’s your question.”

“I’m getting a little tired of this,” Connor said, looking out at the room. They had it mostly to themselves and it had been ages since the waiter had come to check on them. It felt far too empty and quiet, even with the punctuation of the occasional car on the street below. “And besides that, I’m not really sure what else to ask.”

“Well, what d’you think they’ll ask us tomorrow?”

“Stupid soulmate stuff, probably.”

“So ask me stupid soulmate stuff.”

Connor considered it for a moment, jaw and eyes working as his mind ran. Eventually he looked back to Kevin and said, “Do you ever wish things were different?”

Now there was a question Kevin couldn’t answer. All his life he had wished things were different and all his life he had been taught to never, never admit it. He wished he were better with people, he wished he knew what he was doing, he wished he was on good terms with his parents. He wished so many things, but it was impossible to achieve any of them. So what was the point in conceding it? If nothing could ever change then why long for it? He wished life were different, but he had also long ago accepted life the way it was. And in that acceptance he had stopped wishing, resigned to his fate and the uncertainty that lay with it.

“Yes,” he said. And that was all he said, because there was nothing he could definitively relay in words alone. At the very least there was nothing he could admit to that wouldn’t require either explanations or apologies.

Connor waited for more, but when none came he dropped his eyes and said, “One more question, I think, and then we should probably go.”

A thought occurred to Kevin. It was almost amazing it hadn’t occurred before. After everything they had learned about their connection, everything that had gone wrong in Kevin’s life, everything they had found out in just that hour of talking, it should have been a thought had ages ago. But he hadn’t had it ages ago, he had had it only now, and so he voiced it, saying, “What happened to you last year?”

He was met with a blank gaze. And then Connor said, “I’m going to go get the check.” Then he got up and left, leaving Kevin to wonder and stare distantly into the dredges of his mug.

~

“You should have eaten more,” Kevin said once they were on the sidewalk. There was a chill in the air and they were both huddled against the wind behind the safety of their jacket collars. “I hardly ever see you eat.”

“I eat plenty, I just wasn’t hungry. I’ll grab something big for dinner and you can watch me gorge myself if it’ll make you happy.”

“I think I’ll pass, thanks.” They walked in silence for a long moment, uncomfortable, in the odd area between acquaintances and friends where there is very little left to talk about beyond what has already been said. Although, to be fair, friendship was likely an area they would bypass. Forced bonding is a powerful deterrent. “You have a remarkable ability to avoid questions you don’t like the answer to,” Kevin said after a while.

“Do I?”

“You have a remarkable ability to avoid anything you don’t like, actually. I can’t tell if it’s a bad habit or a learned skill.”

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive,” Connor said, almost bitterly. Kevin cast him a glance and found his face vaguely downturned.

While he didn’t particularly mind that Connor was troubled, he did mind that he didn’t know what it was that troubled him. When Kevin asked a question, he liked for it to be answered, he had spent too long following blindly behind those who refused to explain themselves to trust the absence of explanation. And though vulnerability wasn’t his strongest suit, he was willing to try if it meant getting answers.

“Arnold and I weren’t always friends, you know,” he said, earning Connor’s gaze if nothing else. “We were when we were really little, basically never played with any other kids, but when we hit grade school things didn’t go very smoothly.”

“What happened?” Connor asked quietly, pushing his hands down into his pockets.

“I got angry,” Kevin admitted, paying close attention to his companion’s reactions out of the corner of his eye. “I got really upset that I was stuck with him. We didn’t know any other kids who had soulmates that young, it was really isolating. All the adults said we were blessed, that Heavenly Father had chosen us specially for each other and that it was meant to happen, but I just wanted to be normal, like every other kid in class. Arnold didn’t care, he still wanted to be best friends with me, sit next to me at snack time, share a table during class, but I kept thinking to myself that if I hung around with this loser of a kid then I would never be cool, I would never make any other friends.

“I got so bitter that I was tied to him forever, I hated him. I started ditching him to hang out with cooler kids instead, told him to get lost, called him names… I overcompensated like hell, and I just wanted to put as much distance as possible between us because otherwise I thought I could never be popular or independent if I had him hanging off me every step of the way.”

“He’s still here, though,” Connor said. A small gust of wind ruffled Kevin’s hair and barely moved his, but tugged at their jackets. “You seem like you have a really great relationship now.”

“Yeah, we do now,” Kevin agreed. “But it was hard to get to that point.”

“What changed?”

“My parents are very religious. Arnold’s too, but not quite as devout. My bullying of Arnold shifted, I guess, from overt distain to… neglect, I think, is the only way to put it. I ignored him. I pretended he wasn’t there, focused on my studies. I was my parents’ pride and joy, the most promising kid at the training centre. I spent all day every day getting compliments and praise for being so good and pure and an amazing Mormon, and the whole time I pretended like they were right, like I wasn’t purposefully alienating the only person in my life who should have mattered.

“But then our mission happened. Arnold and I got paired together, and suddenly I was forced to be with him all the time, but I had to pretend we were still the model of soulmate perfection. Arnold didn’t care, he was just glad to be back together with me, and his happiness just made me angrier. And then we got to Uganda and…”

“It was a little different than your expected,” Connor said softly.

“Did you go on your mission?” Kevin asked, looking up at Connor who turned his gaze to the ground in return.

“No, I left the Church before then. Moved out when I was 17, soon as I could, and got myself a job in Provo. I wasn’t from there, I just needed somewhere to go.”

“Nobody tells you what your mission is going to be like,” Kevin told him. “They try to, they tell you it’s an amazing experience that’s going to change your life and bring you closer to God, but they’re lying. Your mission is the most… disenfranchising moment of your life. Maybe that was just us, maybe it was just where we were, but it was life-changing in the worst possible way.” He smiled to himself at the memory, at that sudden and violent loss of naiveté. He hadn’t been so different back then as he liked to think, but the Kevin Price who went to Africa still felt like an entirely different person.

“Arnold was there for me, though,” he said fondly. “He was never anywhere else. We had a huge fight and I tried to get transferred and a whole lot of crazy and ridiculous things happened and in the end… he was still there. He was still solid as ever. He was my best friend.”

They reached the hotel and stepped into the lobby, welcoming the still, temperature controlled air, and made their way to the elevators.

“I’m not too good at making friends,” Kevin continued once they were riding up to their floor. “It takes a really stubborn person to stick around long enough to become my friend.” He looked to Connor once more and this time his gaze was returned, intense and searching. “I don’t know if we’ll ever be friends, Connor,” he said, “but you’re damn stubborn.”

Connor’s mouth crooked into a smile and he nodded. “Sounds about right,” he said. “I’d rather be stubborn than miss out on the opportunity to be someone’s friend.”

“I think I’m stubborn,” Kevin said, stepping out into the hall, “but I think it’s in all the wrong ways.”

“Nothing sinful about that.”

“The Church might argue with you in that respect.”

“The Church can bite my ass,” Connor told him with a grin and Kevin couldn’t help but grin back.

When they reached their room and stepped inside, Kevin threw off his shoes and jacket and took a running leap at his bed. It was barely midday, but he wasn’t sure there was really much to do in this neighbourhood, and he wasn’t about to get himself lost deep in the downtown of New York. He supposed they would find ways to occupy their time and he had brought homework along with him because he felt like he had been neglecting it of late.

Connor removed his shoes and jacket, but hung back near the door as though he were considering a possibility. After a moment, he raised his chin and said, “Do you really want to know what happened to me last year?”

Kevin sat up immediately and then tried to wipe the desperate interest from his face. It wouldn’t do to spook him when he had spent the whole walk back trying to get the answer to just that question. “If you don’t mind,” he replied.

Connor nodded before slowly making his way over to his bed where he sat down facing Kevin with his jacket held anxiously between his legs. “You would have found out sooner or later. And besides that, you probably have good reason to ask, I can’t even begin to imagine what it must have felt like for you.”

Kevin’s eyebrows knitted together, and he swung himself around to sit at the edge of his bed, their knees nearly touching.

“Last year, around February, I think,” Connor told him, “I died.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major warnings for the next chapter that will be specifically noted when that chapter goes up.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's still following along. I know there's not a lot of you, but I really like this story and I'm going to try to finish it whether it gets read or not. It's one of those stories you write because the plot is important even if I'm not really sure how to convey it properly, but your kudos and comments are A+ motivation, so thank you.
> 
> -G


	14. Kevin Price Goes Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for the beginning which includes discussion of suicide, depression and self harm. It ends at the: --

Kevin couldn’t respond. Didn’t know how to. For a long moment, he sat waiting for Connor to continue, to explain what he meant, to finally give him the answer to what had happened to both of them the previous school year. After a heavy pause, Kevin breathed out, “What happened?”

Connor wouldn’t make eye contact, looked about at the carpeted floor and fiddled with the jacket in his hands, chewed at his lip. “Last year wasn’t good for me,” he said at last. “I was diagnosed with clinical depression ages ago, but I couldn’t afford any medication, didn’t have the time to spare to see a therapist regularly, and nothing was really going right. I’d been on my own for a few years by then, but I was still barely skirting the edges of survival. Poptarts was helping me out financially, his family lending me money for rent, and I knew I could never pay it back, not for years anyways, and I was working hard both in school and at my job, taking a full course load, which, looking back, wasn’t a great idea. I was failing a few of my classes, not making nearly enough money, and I had to sit there every day and watch these kids doing what I couldn’t do, performing, dancing, living my dream while I was stuck behind a desk telling the operators when to make the lights go.

“But I was fine with that. That was probably the worst part, I was okay with all of it, even though I should have been upset, should have been freaking out. I didn’t have a backup for anything. I couldn’t ever go home again, couldn’t quit my job, I didn’t feel I had any right to take another year off of school, so I was kind of stuck. Chris was there, he kept trying to tell me I’d figure it out and it would pass, but I couldn’t really believe him. There was no way he could know. And since he couldn’t feel any of what I was feeling, he didn’t know how bad it was getting. It was easy to pretend to him. I didn’t really have any sort of… control.”

He shifted forward on the bed and twisted his leg around awkwardly, pulling up the leg of his pants to his knee. There were pale marks across the back of his shin, faint pink lines like stretch marks, but more purposeful and precise. “I didn’t do it for very long,” he admitted as Kevin looked on in horror. “Mostly in third year. I didn’t want to mess with my arms because people see those more, you know? This was easier to hide.

“But I didn’t want to start cutting again, I wasn’t looking for that same kind of escapism or control. I just wanted everything to end, I guess.” He pushed the cuff back down to his ankle and smoothed out the fabric as he spoke. “I was tired of not really feeling anything, of not really being there. I was tired of the nightmares and the disconnect. Everyone in the world has somebody and, yeah, I’ve got Chris, but not really. Not the way everybody else has someone. It was really lonely. I didn’t think anyone would mind so much. I thought I was possibly even doing Chris a favour. I’d definitely stop costing his family money.”

“But that’s not true,” Kevin said, almost a whisper.

“No, it wasn’t,” Connor replied with a wry smile. “But I didn’t know that right then. I was kind of wrapped up in my own little world. So one day when it was really bad and the dissociation kicked in pretty hard I… I took a bottle of pills and then I called an ambulance.”

“Why would you call an ambulance if you wanted to die?”

“Well, I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to die,” Connor explained, and he huffed a laugh. “I figured that if the ambulance got there in time then I was meant to live, but if it didn’t…”

“It got there, though,” Kevin said, heart beating low and heavy in his chest. “You’re still here.”

“It didn’t, actually,” Connor told him. “I died in the hospital, heart stopped. I was legally dead for two minutes.” He said it so matter-of-factly that Kevin didn’t process it quite right at first.

“So,” he began slowly, “you literally died? You were dead?”

“Yeah, weird, right?”

“No, that’s not weird, Connor, that’s horrifying,” Kevin said. “Shit, that’s… That’s incredibly fucked up. I hope you realize how fucked up that is.”

“I don’t really think about it much,” Connor admitted. He gave a shrug and put his jacket on the bed next to him, pressing out the folds of it distractedly with an open palm. “It’s not the kind of thing I really like to think about. All it really did was cost me more money and worry the hell out of Chris. Not to mention all the classes I missed and failed.”

“Connor, you don’t still…” Kevin couldn’t finish the sentence, let it run out, watching Connor’s mouth twitch. “You wouldn’t hurt yourself again, would you?” he asked instead. “You wouldn’t try it again, right?”

“Not with you around, no,” was the reply. Then he clarified, “Now that I know about you, about what kind of effect that stuff has on you, I’m… trying to be better. I would definitely never kill myself again, that was just… stupid, it was selfish and shortsighted. But I’m really trying, Kevin.” He looked into Kevin’s eyes in earnest. “I’m trying not to drink so much or do anything that might have an effect on you like that. It’s hard, it’s always been hard, just existing is hard, but I’m… I’m trying.”

Kevin searched his eyes for anything at all, something to say or feel or do, but it was all he could do just to sit there and listen.

“Have you ever…” Connor started before he trailed off, the curiosity not dying with it. “I mean, I know the things I feel, the things I don’t feel, rather, have some pretty heavy effects on you. Have you ever done anything like that? Hurt yourself or… I don’t know… You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want, I’m just… It makes me feel a little guilty to know what I’ve put you through, to know I’m responsible for so much of what’s gone wrong in your life.”

“I know you do,” Kevin told him, arching his eyebrows because obviously he knew. He could feel it, the dense guilt crawling up the walls of his stomach, the anxiety and fear Connor was rejecting, the vicious emotions threatening to claw him apart from the inside. “I never did anything on purpose,” he told Connor. “I don’t think I’d be brave enough for that. Like, I’ve thought about it, briefly. Who hasn’t? But I never really seriously considered anything.”

He hadn’t expected the answer to his question to be so distressing. He knew, logically, that whatever had happened to Connor must have been bad, considering his reaction to the question. Hell, considering Kevin’s own reaction to it when it had happened. But somehow he was unprepared. Knowing this about Connor, about anybody, was a difficult task. Trying not to let it change his view of Connor was difficult, but mostly it just made him worry.

He wasn’t only worried for Connor, though that was a major frontrunner for biggest concerns at the moment, he was also worried about himself. And he knew that was selfish, but after everything he had gone through, his need for self-preservation was high, his combined fear of failure and of collapse bringing enough energy into his chest to jumpstart a car. And he was worried for Chris, too. Even after spending more time with the two of them, Kevin didn’t really know Chris that well. He knew he was a sensitive guy and that he was extremely protective of Connor, the reason for which was becoming clearer every day, and he knew that losing Connor might just kill him.

It was difficult to imagine how Kevin would feel if he lost Connor. He wasn’t sure what would happen. Not just because he didn’t know what effect losing a soulmate would have long-term (the short period of loss having had such a major repercussion, though there were a great deal of factors there) but because he still didn’t know how to feel about Connor. He wouldn’t say he liked him, but he didn’t exactly dislike him anymore. Their initial relationship had coloured everything an odd shade of uncomfortable, and the anger and resentment and blame were hard to come back from. But he wanted to come back from them. It was a surprising notion, but he didn’t want to just pretend for cameras, he didn’t want this to be just about their public image of their curious bond, he wanted more than that. He wanted it to be real. He wanted a friend, more than anything in the world, and he was surprised at that want.

\--

“Connor,” he said tentatively, shifting awkwardly in his seat, “I know we’ve known each other for a while now, and I know we’ve gone through some weird stuff. I’ve been an ass to you and things have been really… I don’t want to…” He took a breath, trying to find the words to match up to the thoughts he was having trouble hearing. “We started off in a really weird place. Or, we went to a really weird place after starting off in a maybe okay place. We had two starts and the second one was weird, but the first one was weird in a different way…”

“Do you want to start again?” Connor asked, finishing the thought for him. Kevin couldn’t find any eagerness or distain in his features or tone, the question a blank one of fact rather than emotion.

“Third time’s the charm?” he offered weakly.

Kevin didn’t hope for much. He had given up on hope a long time ago, preferring to consider his future one built on hard work and determination rather than hoping the right thing would happen. People were different. He couldn’t make a person do or think or want something through hard work and determination, he had to simply hope that he had done the right thing or that the person would produce the result he wanted. Kevin wanted Connor to smile, hoped Connor would smile, and accept the offer.

Connor didn’t smile. His face was blank. But still, he nodded, and he said, “Okay,” and it would have to be enough. Kevin flushed with gratitude and was about to voice a modest amount of it when Connor interrupted him. “But I need you to understand,” he said, taking on a gravely serious tone, “I can’t just forget everything that’s already happened. We can start again, but I can’t pretend all of that meant nothing.”

Stunned, Kevin nodded, and Connor finally smiled, tight, but kind. “It’s nothing against you,” he continued, “but I don’t want us to think that starting again means we’re entirely different people.”

“I get it,” Kevin said, because really he did. He wouldn’t want to be treated the way he had treated Connor either and forgiveness of any kind was compassion he was certain he didn’t deserve. But Connor was a kind person. He made a habit of giving people too many chances, it seemed. “And if you ever do want to talk about anything,” Kevin said, desperate to earn some good faith, “I’m here, okay? You can talk to me about stuff.”

Connor looked unconvinced, but he said, “Okay,” once more and then, “Thank you.”

It was still only midday, the high sun brightening the room to the point where they didn’t need the ceiling light. Kevin normally had something to do during the day, be it school, work, a library visit, but today was entirely empty. He wasn’t really sure what to do about it. But when Connor stood from his seat, picking up his jacket once more and casting glances back at the door, said, “I’m going out for a while, I’m gonna explore the neighbourhood a bit,” followed after a hesitation by, “Do you want to come with me?”

Kevin said, “No. Thanks, but I have some things I need to get done today.”

They may have agreed to a fresh start, or as fresh as they could allow it to be, but it was still much too early in that start, much too close to an emotional conversation that Kevin needed time to recover from. He needed a moment to himself. He needed to recuperate and figure out exactly what a new beginning meant, because he certainly hadn’t planned anything, but now he was stuck with one.

Once Connor was gone, Kevin pulled out his laptop and got to work on some of his schoolwork, heaving out the single textbook he had allowed himself for the weekend, and pretended his focus wasn’t on other things. He always found that when he was confused and worried, the best thing was to distract himself with a certainty. It didn’t feel like much later that Connor returned, though the sun was much lower in the sky and Kevin was only alerted to his presence when the light switch was suddenly flipped and the overhead light brightened his world.

“Hey,” he said, looking back and forth between companion and screen. He had eventually managed to find his focus, shaky though it was, and was eager to get this page finished. It had a good flow, he thought, and deserved the proper attention. “How was the city?”

“It was… gross,” Connor told him, face expressing everything the word was meant to convey. Shrugging off his jacket he wandered over to the space between their beds. “What have you been doing?”

“Homework.”

“I can’t believe you brought that with you.” He tossed the jacket onto his bed, but aimed too far and it tumbled off the other side onto the floor. He sighed, but made no move to go rescue it. “We’re basically on vacation right now and you’re choosing to write an essay.”

“Annotated bibliography,” Kevin corrected him, eyes never wavering from their task.

“That’s even worse.” He sat down heavily on his own bed and looked around the room for a moment, energy seeming to have returned with his brief excursion. “You need to get out of this room,” he said. “It’s not healthy to be locked up and hunched over a computer all day every day.”

“I have commitments,” Kevin muttered. “This is due this week and I’ve honestly been ignoring way too much of my work lately.” He looked over at Connor who was watching him passively. “You don’t have to stick around if you don’t want to, you know.”

“No, if we’re going to try to be friends then that means we have to spend time together, get to know each other better. We have to bond and find common ground.”

“We spent all morning doing that,” Kevin protested.

“But that was under different pretext,” Connor replied. He waited for a response and when none came he rolled his eyes. “Kevin, we should at least go out and grab something for dinner, it’s getting late.”

“You can, I just want to finish this one thing.”

“Nope.” Before Kevin knew what was happening, Connor had shut the laptop in front of his face, narrowly avoiding trapping his fingers in the process. He protested, but Connor wouldn’t hear it. “We’re going out to get something to eat. You can be as nerdy as you want after you get some food in your stomach.”

“That’s hardly fair,” Kevin muttered, even as Connor was putting the laptop to the side and dragging Kevin onto his feet. “Maybe we should go back to hating each other, then at least I can get some work done.”

“Very funny,” Connor said dryly. He pushed at Kevin’s back, trying to get him to move faster and Kevin stumbled along. “Get your shoes and jacket on, let’s go.”

“Now that I know you’re a stage manager, I really can’t stop seeing it,” Kevin muttered as he knelt down to tie his shoes.

“It’s honestly a miracle you even know what a stage manager is.”

“I’ve spent so much time with you lately, I could probably recite an entire stage crew from top to bottom by now.” The moment his laces were tied, Connor threw his jacket at him and Kevin pursed his lips. “I think you might be taking this all a bit too seriously.”

“I’m hungry, Kevin, I want to eat, let’s go.”

“If you had eaten more at brunch-“

“Move it! Out the door!”

Kevin could have gotten whiplash from the turnaround in Connor’s mood. He would have suspected alcohol, but he couldn’t feel that familiar haze, so he reasoned it was probably just Connor’s deeply trained mood control kicking in. It seemed that if he decided to be a certain way then he would be that way, no matter what way he had been earlier. But then again, it had been several hours between his departure and his return, so it may very well just have been the change of scenery and some much needed time to himself.

“Where are we going?” he asked as Connor hustled them down the street. It was very nearly dark out and the shapeless corners of the buildings surrounding them, masked by shadow, were pricking at his nerves a little. But Connor seemed resolute, glancing up at storefronts as they passed, never slowing, as though the hunger in his belly was pulling him to some unseen destination.

“Wherever we want, doesn’t matter,” Connor answered him, shooting a look up at a convenience store and then the shoe store next to it.

“How about here?” Kevin attempted to stop them in front of a pho restaurant, but Connor managed to drag him along.

“No, I’m thinking maybe Greek? I saw a Greek place up here, I’m sure of it.”

“I never saw one,” Kevin muttered. Connor’s grip on his wrist was too strong to jerk out of, so he submitted himself to being pulled along like a very reluctant dog going for a walk with his very determined owner.

“It was further up than the brunch place, I saw it on my walk.”

“You should’ve just picked something up, then, on your way back, if you’re so hungry.”

“I didn’t want to get you something you didn’t like.”

“You have my phone nu-“

“You know what?” Connor said, cutting him off mid-complaint, “Let’s stop in here first.”

Suddenly, Connor changed direction and Kevin found himself being thrown in through the doors of some shop that had apparently caught his companion’s attention. The grip on him was released and Kevin rubbed his wrist, glaring at Connor’s smug face before turning his attention to their surroundings.

The store he had diverted them into appeared to be a men’s formal wear store, suit jackets lining one wall, pants another, and shirts set out in carefully organized racks throughout. It wasn’t high end by any means, but it was still nicer than Kevin would have expected of the neighbourhood. “Connor, what-“

He was cut off once more, this time by a short man in a suit crying out, “Hello! Can I help you gentlemen find anything today?”

“I was hoping you could direct us to your tie selection,” Connor told him, matching the customer service smile with one of his own. Kevin rolled his eyes when he realized exactly why Connor had insisted on this little detour, but didn’t say anything as the short man led them to a standing rack covered in a rainbow of ties. “Thank you, very much,” Connor told the man.

“You are very welcome! Give me a holler if you need help with anything, I’ll just be in the back room there.”

He vanished through a door and Connor turned to Kevin, but Kevin spoke before he could. “What are we doing here?” Kevin asked, even though he knew very well what they were doing there.

“You know very well what we’re doing here,” Connor replied.

“Yes, I know what we’re doing here, but why?”

“I had two ties, but since you borrowed the dark one from me yesterday, I need a new one. And so do you, because I refuse to be seen with you in the one you brought with you.”

“And why can’t we just wear the same ties?”

Connor looked scandalized. “Kevin, I thought we were going to try to be friends now.”

“I don’t have the money for a new tie.”

“And you have even less money for a new suit, which is why we’re only buying ties today. They’re not that expensive and they make a big difference.”

Kevin didn’t really see the point, but he saw far less of a point in trying to argue, so he set his shoulders, sighed, and turned to look at the options. In his opinion, there were far too many, and all bunched up together like that, it was difficult to imagine what any of them would look like on their own with his suit. He supposed he was meant to remove them from the rack and hold them against other jackets in the store, or something similar, but he worried that he wouldn’t be able to put it back properly if he did.

“Which one am I meant to take?” he asked. It was probably best for Connor to choose for him, considering his opinion was the only one that really mattered in this area. Honestly, Kevin couldn’t care less.

“That’s up to you,” Connor said. He was watching Kevin carefully rather than examining the ties himself, and it was making Kevin feel a little on edge.

“Whichever one I choose, you’re going to tell me I’m wrong.”

“No, it’s a matter of personal preference. Ties are a way for men, and women, in suits to express their personalities. If I were to pick the tie for you, it would defeat the purpose.”

“Then why couldn’t I wear the tie I brought?”

Connor tilted his head in a shrug-like motion and said, “Because it was ugly and made you look bland.”

“I am bland.”

“Not as much as you think you are.”

Frowning at the rack, Kevin worked his jaw, trying to decide which tie would be suitably ‘him’ enough for Connor to be happy about it. After a moment of consideration he reached out and took a deep red tie.

Immediately, Connor shook his head, said, “No,” and then gently pushed Kevin’s hand back toward the rack where the tie was replaced.

“What was wrong with that one?”

“Red ties with grey suits make people look like politicians. Also it just isn’t your colour.”

“So pick one for me,” Kevin said in exasperation.

“I can’t!”

“Pick one for yourself, then, let me get some creative inspiration.”

Connor nodded suspiciously and let his eyes slide over to the ties. He only let his eyes flicker over the options for a moment before taking a silky pink one from the rack and holding it up for Kevin to see. “And there you have it,” he said, far too pleased with himself.

“There I have what?” Kevin asked.

Connor rolled his eyes, but Kevin couldn’t tell if he was actually annoyed or not because he was feeling pretty annoyed himself and he was pretty certain it was mostly, if not all, him. “My suit is navy blue,” Connor explained, like Kevin was in kindergarten. “Come look at this.” He marched over to the adjoining wall where the pants were hung and held the tie up to a pair of navy pants. “Pink and blue work well together, specifically light pink and dark blue. It gives us colour, it gives us contrast, and it gives us personality.”

“Are you sure green is your favourite colour?” Kevin asked skeptically. “Because you sure seem to like pink.”

“Pink looks good on me. Looks good on most guys, actually, if they know how to do it. Most guys are just too scared of looking girly to actually put effort into their appearances.”

“You don’t think green looks good on you?” Kevin tried to think back to any time he had ever seen Connor wearing green and came up short. He seemed to stick almost entirely to blues and purples with the occasional shot of colour or even all black. Of course, he always looked good, he knew what he was doing, but he seemed to be stuck in the realm of safely stylish.

“It’s not my colour,” Connor told him with a tilt of the head. He led them back over to the tie rack, wrapping the pink tie into a loop around his hand. “I like green, but I can’t really pull it off.”

“I think anybody with red hair looks good in green.”

“My hair’s not that red.” He motioned to the selection once more. “Pick a tie.”

Clothes shopping had never been a favoured activity for Kevin. When he was younger it had been easy, there were certain rules he was expected to abide by, the watchful eye of his father telling him what to wear and how. He had avoided shopping as much as possible since attending school because with no structure and no expectations, he was really at a loss as to how he was meant to look. Wearing his old style felt too stiff, but it was frightening to try anything new, so he mostly resorted to the safety net of t-shirts and jeans, the colours of those being less intimidating than Connor was making this.

He reached out again, for a purple tie with dark stripes this time, but Connor made a humming noise that caused his hand to retract. “You can’t tell me it’s all my choice if you’re going to keep telling me I’m wrong.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“No, but you weren’t silent either.”

“It’s not that hard, Kevin,” Connor insisted, making Kevin feel petulant and difficult when he was genuinely trying. He didn’t want Connor to think he was so incapable, but it seemed like he might possibly be just that incapable. “When was the last time you bought a suit for yourself, Kevin?”

“Never.”

“You’ve never bought a suit?” Connor asked, almost stunned. “Where did you get yours then? Did it just appear in your closet?”

“My dad bought it for me,” Kevin answered, trying not to let himself get upset. Connor couldn’t have known, he couldn’t understand the implications of something he didn’t know all the details about. “It was a gift for when I went on my mission. The only suit I’ve got.”

Connor fell silent and Kevin turned to find him looking at him with something like sadness in his eyes. There was something like sadness in Kevin’s chest. “That’s your mission suit?” Connor asked quietly.

“Yeah. It still fits me so I didn’t really see a reason to get rid of it.”

His eyes searched Kevin’s face for a moment, brow furrowed in thought. It was a day of emotional backstories, apparently, and Kevin desperately hoped Connor wouldn’t ask for more details about his, evidently, emotionally affective suit. Instead, to Kevin’s relief, Connor diverted his attention back to the problem at hand, chewing at his lip. He selected a tie, examined it carefully, and then held it out to Kevin. Kevin took it quizzically and turned it over in his hands.

“It’s kind of bright, isn’t it?” he asked.

“It suits you, though,” Connor replied.

It was a sky blue tie with large embroidered sunflowers spilling over the edges. He ran his fingers along the fabric feeling the way the petals raised off the sky, yellows and oranges standing out sharply, and the longer he looked at it the more he liked it.

“You think it’ll look good?”

“God, no,” Connor said, crossing his arms. Kevin looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “It’s going to look terrible with that grey suit of yours, but it’s you. Which is more than I can say for the tie in your suitcase. And when we have more time and more money, I’m taking you out to get a new suit to go with it.”

Kevin wasn’t quite sure why he felt something catch in his throat at that promise, but he nodded and smiled and looked down at his new tie.

“Alright, don’t get all teary-eyed on me now,” Connor said gently, rubbing a hand on Kevin’s back briefly. “Come on, I need to go find a pocket square.”

~

They arrived back at the hotel two hours later, ties safely stored away in their bag and stomachs full. There had, in fact, not been a Greek place anywhere near where they were, and Connor was the first to admit he had never really cared where they ate, but it came as no surprise. They wound up getting pizza, a classic that neither could find fault in, and felt disgustingly greasy and content as they shut the door to their room.

Connor excused himself to the bathroom and Kevin wandered over to the closet where their suits were hanging from the night before. He took his down and laid it out on the bed. The tie Connor had lent him was hanging over the pants and he removed it carefully, wrapping it into a loop the way he had seen Connor do earlier, and set it aside. From the store bag, he pulled out the sunflower tie, and unraveled it to lay it gently over the grey pant leg. It really did look awful. It made him smile.

The dark blue embroidered tie was significantly prettier, but Kevin didn’t really think it suited him, not nearly as much as it would have suited Connor. He almost regretted stealing away the opportunity to wear it, but he was grateful, nonetheless, for the gesture, even though it may have been rooted in vanity. So he took it over to where Connor’s suitcase lay on the floor near the window and tried his best not to look at the contents as he placed the tie inside.

The bag was surprisingly empty. Kevin didn’t really think of Connor as someone who would pack light, but evidently he did. Suitcase closed and zipped up, he returned to the foot of his own bed where he stood looking down at the suit, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

The bathroom door opened and Connor came up beside him, following the gaze.

“It looks good,” he said.

“No it doesn’t.”

Connor smiled and laughed a little. “No, it doesn’t.”

That night, Connor dreamt about a bottle of pills. He dreamt about the heaviness in his arms and legs and eyes. He dreamt about salvation just out of reach. He dreamt his body giving out just before he could reach it, his voice vanishing deep inside his lungs, his vision fading into nothing.

Kevin dreamed it too.

When he climbed into bed with Connor in the pitch dark of the night he let him cling to him. Let him find comfort in touch and sleep in his embrace.

As always when he awoke the next morning, Kevin’s head was resting on Connor’s chest. He found he didn’t really mind, liked the way the arm around his back held him secure to Connor’s side, liked the sound of his heart through the flimsy t-shirt, liked the contact and warmth. He wondered when the last time he had actually liked Connor was as opposed to simply tolerating or not hating him.

After a few minutes he felt the chest beneath him shift in rhythm and felt a part of his mind shift as well. Connor’s fingers moved lightly against his waist and for a moment they lay there in silence, neither making the first move to part.

Perhaps it wasn’t that it was specifically Connor. It could have just been that Kevin had gotten used to the constant contact Arnold gave him, or that after all that talk about their personal private issues the day before had left him a little vulnerable, but Kevin was reluctant to get up. He wanted to stay there for a while longer, enjoy the closeness, listen to a person breathe.

Actually, he wasn’t sure that Connor knew he was awake yet. So he moved his arm a little, raising it higher on Connor’s stomach, feeling the ribcage beneath his skin, just enough to let Connor know he was present. Connor’s hand came up to rest on Kevin’s arm, a sort of acceptance, or perhaps encouragement. Or maybe it was gratitude. Kevin was never very good at knowing the difference.

“Does Chris know about your nightmares?” Kevin asked, his voice rough and quiet, the muffled noise of cars just outside the window barely touching the stillness in the room.

“No,” Connor said, and that word reverberated through his chest against Kevin’s temple.

“You should tell him,” Kevin said.

“Later.”

His arms tightened around Kevin and Kevin returned the motion, feeling Connor’s cheek come to rest against the top of his head. They both sighed, and for once in his life, Kevin felt contented. Almost enough for two people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm a slut for cuddling
> 
> -G


	15. Kevin Price Goes on TV

“You look like a youth pastor who’s trying too hard,” Connor laughed when Kevin reentered the room.

Kevin looked down at his suit and flashy new tie. It did look terrible, but it tickled him and he tried to glare at Connor, but could only manage a sly smile. “You look like you’re going to a wedding and you’re trying to upstage the groom,” he retorted and Connor smoothed down his tie in response.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you,” he said through a haughty grin.

He really did look good. In a well-cut navy suit matched with a shimmery pink tie and a matching pocket square he had somehow folded into the shape of a rose, Connor was spectacularly overdressed, but it worked on him. Standing even in the same room immediately made Kevin feel like his simple grey suit and goofy sunflower tie were distractingly disagreeable. Sure, he liked the tie as an individual item, but put together in the way he was it just looked garish.

“Maybe I should just wear your blue tie again,” he suggested as he crossed the room to find the comb stashed in his bag. “I look ridiculous and together we look mismatched.” Running the comb through his hair he grimaced. “I should’ve just gotten a different tie.”

“Nonsense,” Connor replied, more chipper than he had been all weekend and blatantly admiring his reflection in the mirror just visible through the bathroom doorway. “The tie makes you look fun. It gives you personality.”

“I feel like you chose it to make me look stupid on purpose.”

“Hey, you get the pretty face and I get the pretty clothes. There’s gotta be a trade-off.”

The offhanded remark made the comb pause momentarily. Connor hadn’t said anything remotely flirtatious to him since the party and Kevin had been content to live in that realm of comfortably and distantly platonic. But it seemed that Connor’s quick-working forgiveness had absolutely transformed their relationship overnight. Or at least since the weekend had begun. Or, not quite a weekend since they had been there since Thursday, but since they had arrived in New York. He had certainly recovered from the gut-wrenching honesty of the previous day.

Whatever the timeline, Kevin wasn’t sure how he was supposed to behave in the face of a relationship he wasn’t clear on the nature of. Oh sure, if Connor was flirting, intentionally or not, it was purely for sport, but it still threw a momentary wrench in Kevin’s working understanding of their rapport. Then again, perhaps he was simply returning to his old self at long last. This was the first time in a long time that there was no animosity between them, no real tension beyond the ever-present anxiety of a most abnormal existence, and Kevin supposed they really hadn’t been much themselves since it had all begun. He must have forgotten what Connor was like, not that he had ever really known to begin with.

“Kevin.”

The insistent tone yanked Kevin out of his thoughts and he blinked at Connor who was giving him a look of incredulous amusement. “What?” he asked.

“Thought I’d lost you there for a second,” Connor told him, brushing past him to get to his suitcase. He rummaged about inside it as he spoke, “I was just saying we should do something when we get back to Utah, actually go for drinks or something.” He pulled out a bottle of cologne, which even from afar was instantly recognizable to Kevin as the pleasantly sweet scent that followed Connor everywhere. “Like I know we’re both busy most of the time what with school and rehearsals and stuff, but we kind of ruined that last time and it’d be nice for the four of us to get to hang out casually, you know? Without worrying about interviews or cameras or anything.”

Kevin watched him apply the cologne as his brain caught up, not moving fast enough to even consider mistaking Connor’s invitation for anything more than a group endeavor before he had already clarified. But he wouldn’t have minding spending time alone with Connor outside of all this. Getting to know him over the past few days had been tricky and frightening, but it had been good overall. To be able to hold a conversation without the underlying pretense of a public image to uphold might even be fun. His brief memories of the two of them together prior to the incident at the house party were fond ones even if they had an unhappy result.

“Kevin?”

Kevin blinked back at him, entirely unaware he had been disappearing into his own head again and a little embarrassed he had been caught.

Connor smiled as he replaced the bottle. “You’re just a bundle of nerves today, aren’t you?”

He was, admittedly, but he had long since gotten to a point where he could ignore them for the sake of functioning. “No, I’m fine, just a little distracted,” Kevin said with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, drinks sounds like a fun idea, but remember, Arnold and I don’t drink.”

“How could I forget? You don’t have to get actual drinks, I just mean we should go to a bar or a pub or something, get some food, hang out a bit. You don’t have to drink anything, it’s just a figure of speech.”

“Right.”

His phone buzzed on the bed where he had left it. After a glance at the number, Kevin declined the call.

“Who was that?”

“Just a telemarketer or something.”

“Right. Well, anyways, we should get going,” Connor said, straightening out his jacket one last time. He looked pristine already, but at least a little of his borderline obsessive grooming must be for show. “Can’t keep the public waiting.”

~

When they arrived at the studio, Kevin felt like everyone was staring at him. It was difficult to know if it was because of the soulmate thing or because of his awful tie, so he decided to be self-conscious about both.

Beyond a reception area was a door leading to a hallway, which brought them to another door connected to another hallway that was much darker than the first. It was the underbelly of the studio and opened up into a corridor where they were led past dressing rooms. They bypassed all of them, and found themselves deposited in a dimly lit area with walls lined with pulleys, wires and switches. Just beyond a turning point they could hear voices amplified over speakers, the titter of group laughter, and Kevin realized with horror that they were about to be set in front of a live audience.

A live audience at home and a live audience in the studio were two entirely different beasts. Both were nerve-wracking, but this was just a whole other level. Being with the interviewers in person two days ago had been a large enough stride for Kevin to take, but the thought of being made into a spectacle, being able to see the faces of those watching him, was making his heart race. He had always been a spectacle, of course, but never like this, and it would have been nice to get a little bit of warning.

Needing to feel at least a little grounded, he reached out for Connor’s hand and felt him start at the contact. The nerves in his chest prickled against his ribcage and he felt Connor’s fingers wrap around his own, latched on to that warmth and solidity and dullness. Felt concerned.

“I didn’t know this would be live,” he whispered, eyes locked on the glow ahead of them.

“I thought you said you’d seen this show,” Connor replied, a spike of anxiety bursting up through Kevin’s hand straight to his heart.

“Not for years, my mom watched it, I hadn’t even thought about it until I got the call.”

The hand in his tightened almost painfully and, though the contact felt good, the connection was doing nothing to slow his heart.

Around them, crewmen worked diligently, murmuring into headsets and pushing past the pair to get where they needed to be, green light reflecting momentarily off their sides as they passed. A woman with a clipboard who had welcomed them and told them to wait was currently ignoring them in favour of some issue being relayed to her from the other end of the set, and a young man was fitting them with microphones on their lapels, instructing them on how to speak and where to look. Kevin wasn’t paying attention, his focus pulled by the looming prospect of the interview, but he had been through all of that microphone nonsense at their most recent studio visit and, even if it had occurred to him to be, he wouldn’t be worried about it.

At the point where their names were said and the woman with the clipboard directed them through to the set, Kevin was mostly numb. Connor had let go of his hand and he missed the anchor it provided, his anxiety peaking as they stepped out onstage into the bright lights and applause. The set was vibrantly decorated and featured four large armchairs, two of which were already occupied. Kevin blindly followed Connor to the empty chairs and took a seat, only barely remembering to smile to the hosts, who extended welcomes, which only Connor responded to.

Connor had never been the solid one in interviews before and today seemed no different. He fidgeted with his jacket, looked around nervously, gave shaky laughs, but at least he had the presence of mind to speak. It took Kevin a few seconds to catch up, remind himself that he enjoyed the attention, that it was no different from any interview they had ever had. He tried not to look out at the sea of faces and focused instead on the smiling faces of the hosts, and in doing so, he felt his mind ease.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to have you here today,” one of them was saying, Nigel Green if Kevin remembered correctly.

“We have been hearing so much about you two these past few weeks,” the other, Elizabeth Brown, said pleasantly. “I have to say, I have been looking forward to getting you on our show.”

“I don’t see why, we’re just people,” Connor replied with a smile and a wobbly laugh.

“Just people, but you’ve achieved something extraordinary,” Nigel said with an air of amazement in his voice. Both he and Elizabeth were heavily made up, their hair remaining perfectly still no matter how their heads moved and Kevin was beginning to wonder if they even had pores because he certainly couldn’t see any. “You are the first people in the world to have a soul connection of this kind.”

“That’s what they keep telling us,” Kevin said, trying to be good-natured. It was tough, though, with the lights and cameras, it was always tough, and with the audience as well he was finding his resolve shaken. “But I don’t think it’s an achievement so much as a chance discovery. It’s incredible, but it’s not something credit can be given for.”

“Nonsense,” Elizabeth declared, “Credit where credit is due! You’ve managed to balance two soul connections each, which is a pretty stunning feat.”

“Uh, for those of you just tuning in,” Nigel said to the cameras, “or those of you who have been living under rocks…” The audience rippled with laughter and Kevin found he rather liked it. “We have with us today Kevin Price and Connor McKinley, the only people in the world who have multiple soulmates.”

“That’s not true,” Elizabeth interrupted. “They’re the only ones whose soulmates are not also connected.”

“It’s like a… consecutive thing rather than a loop, isn’t that right?” Nigel directed the question to Kevin and Kevin did his best to explain.

“That’s right. Previous situations have been three soulmates who are all connected to each other, but in our case there are four of us and only two of us, Connor and I, have multiple connections. It’s like we’re light bulbs in a circuit going in a straight line from Arnold to me to Connor to Chris, his soulmate.”

“And isn’t that just remarkable?” Nigel cooed. “And how are your soulmates dealing with all this? The media attention and so forth.”

“They’re good sports,” Kevin told him. Connor was staying shockingly silent and he cast a worried glance only to find him smiling gently at their hosts as though nothing at all were wrong, though Kevin could feel the tightness in his chest and the buzzing in his head. “They’re very supportive of us, we wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without them.”

“And isn’t that what soulmates are all about?”

“Now, I know you’ve done it a million times,” Elizabeth said, casting a playfully reluctant look out to the audience, “but we would love it if we could see your connection.”

“I don’t know…” Connor chuckled.

“Oh, come on,” Nigel said with a grin. Then he turned to the audience and cried out, “How about we give them a bit of encouragement, folks? Round of applause?” He raised his hands up and clapped them loudly and the audience enthusiastically responded with the same.

Kevin gave Connor an encouraging smile, curious as to why he was being so reluctant this time around. They had never had issue with it before, but it seemed that the live audience was giving Connor just as much performance anxiety as Kevin. But Kevin held out his hand, palm up, and after a moments hesitation, Connor accepted it.

It was like a shot of adrenaline straight to his heart. Of course, he should have expected it, should have known it would be different, but it still caught him entirely by surprise. He felt the whole world drop a foot as Connor’s pure anxiety snapped through his veins, a direct connection, the stage fright he couldn’t turn off. Kevin’s face dropped.

He was going to have a panic attack.

Not now, he thought, not here, not now, not here.

If he could hold it off for long enough then he might make it to the commercial break. As long as he didn’t have an attack on live television, he could live with it.

The hosts and the audience were still applauding and cheering, a different kind than they had been before, impressed and amazed by the green light that, for any other pair of soulmates, would be absolutely unremarkable.

“That really is incredible,” Elizabeth said to Nigel. “It’s so vibrant!”

“There’s a theory going around, I’m not sure if the two of you have heard it,” Nigel said as Kevin quickly pulled his hand back, trying not to let the panic rising in his chest consume him. “But the basic idea is that-“ he gestured to Kevin “-your spirit light with your other soulmate is blue-“ he gestured to Connor, who seemed to have calmed down some now that Kevin was in possession of most of the fear “-and yours is yellow. Together you make green. Basic colour theory. It’s been going around that this connection actually isn’t individual from your other ones, but more of… a combination. Yellow and blue coming together to make green.”

“Like the bond Kevin and I share is actually just some sort of… Frankenstein bond?” Connor asked with a smirk. Kevin couldn’t help but feel envious of that sudden and dishonestly achieved calm. It was his, it should have been his.

“Well, the colour matches up,” Nigel said with a laugh and the audience echoed his amusement.

“Some of our viewers believe that you really only have your individual bonds,” Elizabeth said, leaning forward in her seat. “And the bond you have with each other is just those two bonds interacting with one another.”

“Is that what you believe?” Kevin asked. He didn’t want to seem removed, couldn’t let on that his pulse was going a mile a minute and his vision was starting to tunnel. But his mouth was disgustingly dry and his voice sounded odd to him.

No one else seemed to notice, however, and Elizabeth sat back in her chair again with a practiced smile. “I’m not sure what to believe. It’s unheard of, it could be anything.”

“Well, our doctors confirm that it is a proper bond,” Connor told them. He was still a little shaky, but the tremor in his hand had vanished, taking up residence in Kevin’s hand instead. “We’ve gotten tested, checked, probed, and we can say without a doubt that we are, in fact, soulmates.”

“Sounds like a lot of work to me,” Nigel said, putting on a face so it seemed like he was joking even though what he said hadn’t been a joke.

Elizabeth smiled graciously at him and the audience murmured with amusement. They sounded distant.

“It’s no vacation,” Connor said with an equally fake smile.

Kevin tried to smile too, but could feel his mouth twitching horribly. Elizabeth turned her smile on him, but the look faltered when she caught sight of his face. She caught herself and turned in time to laugh and something Nigel had said that wasn’t actually funny and Kevin wished this had been a normal interview. That there hadn’t been a live audience. That he was put together and capable and a little pig-headed like he was in every other interview. That Connor hadn’t touched him.

“We’re gonna take a break, folks,” Nigel announced to the audience and Kevin’s head perked up, ready to steal a hasty retreat. “Stay tuned for more of Kevin and Connor after these messages and then we’ll be welcoming another guest later today to talk about his new album. I think you all know who that is. Coming up!”

“And we’re out!” called a voice from behind a copse of cameras and instantly Kevin was fumbling to remove his mic.

“Hey, kid, you okay?” Elizabeth asked at the edge of his consciousness.

He didn’t reply, didn’t look up to see any of the concerned faces turned towards him, just begged his fingers to work.

“Kevin, what’s wrong?” Connor asked quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Get this off of me,” Kevin managed to mutter and the second Connor had removed the mic for him, Kevin bolted for the wings. He just needed to be out of sight of the audience, needed a quiet spot where he could collect himself and take a few breaths. He managed to get just past the cables and crew into the hall beyond where he let himself collapse against a wall and close his eyes.

Almost immediately, Connor was at his side, trying to look up into his face. “Kevin, what’s wrong?” he was asking again. Kevin slid down to sit on the floor and Connor followed him, kneeling far too close.

“I just need a second,” Kevin whispered through shaky breaths.

“But what-“

“It’s a panic attack, it’s fine,” Kevin told him forcefully. He just needed Connor to shut up. This wasn’t a bad one by any stretch of the imagination, but it was enough that it could become a bad one if he wasn’t careful.

“What can I do?”

“Just be quiet.” He glanced up at Connor and realized he had sounded harsh, and he didn’t want to go back down that road. “Just… I need some quiet to try to… relax.”

“What’s going on?” asked the woman with the clipboard. She had appeared behind Connor, clutching her clipboard and looking professionally concerned, more worried they would ruin the show than that there was actually something wrong with Kevin.

“It’s just nerves,” Connor told her. “Could you get us some water, please?”

The woman faltered, clearly not used to getting instructions so menial, so instead she gestured to someone else and a body moved past them down the hall to retrieve the water.

“Could you give us a second, please?” Connor asked.

The woman nodded, checked her watch, then nodded again. “You have two minutes.” Then she disappeared back into the wings.

“Two minutes,” Kevin laughed. That was hardly any time at all. He needed much longer than that to come down.

“They’re not so personable when the cameras are off, are they?” Connor said wryly. He was very close to Kevin and his voice was still gentle, which was greatly appreciated. Kevin tried to focus on him, distract himself from the mass of people he had just run out on. He couldn’t get the thought out of his head that they probably thought there was something wrong with him, that he was crazy or unstable, tried not to let his imagination infect his memory with mutters of audience speculation. He took his tie into his hands and ran his fingers over the flowers on it, paying close attention to the textures, the smoothness of the blue, the roughness of the yellow and orange, staring at Connor, finding comfort in the blue of his irises. Blue was calming, blue was good. Quirking a smirk, but the crease in his brow still pronounced as ever, Connor softly placed his hand over Kevin’s.

Immediately, Kevin jerked his hand away, startled both by the contact and by the fresh flood of nerves it provided. “You need to calm down,” he snapped and Connor looked taken aback. “You need- I need you to calm down,” Kevin tried again in a more measured voice.

A cup of water was held out to them, and Kevin gladly accepted it before the man, the same one who had attached their mics, retreated hesitantly into the wings. “Is it my fault?” Connor asked, his concern sounding sincere.

“Maybe?” Kevin said. “I think… a lot, but maybe only some, I’m not… I’m not sure.” His head was muddled, too caught up in the buzz of anxiety to differentiate anything, not that he would have been able to anyways. He had been getting better at it, but it was still mostly guessing. The feelings all still felt like his own, but now he was able to determine the probability that they actually were based on what he should be feeling or what he wanted to feel. It wasn’t accurate and it wasn’t scientific, but it was all the control he had. And right now he didn’t have even that.

“How do I calm down?” Connor asked urgently. “You know more about this than I do. I can’t exactly just switch it off right now.”

“Yeah, that’d be a little counter-productive,” Kevin replied dryly, trying to measure out his breaths. “Just… count to ten. Focus on something other than the interview and the audience, focus on literally anything else.”

“Like what?” Connor asked. He was getting visibly worked up now, like acknowledging the feelings had given them permission to express themselves, and he plainly so desperately wanted to help, but was helpless.

Kevin was having trouble thinking clearly, but around the pounding in his ears he realized that while Connor was usually more put together than he was in everyday life, Kevin had more experience with panic and anxiety. Between the two of them, only Kevin really knew what he was doing, even if it didn’t particularly feel like it at the time.

“Focus on me,” he said, trying to keep eye contact. “You focus on me and I’ll focus on you.”

“I’ll try, but I’m not really sure how.”

“What colour is my hair?”

Connor looked confused. “What- Brown,” he said.

“What colour are my eyes?”

“Brown as well.”

“What else?”

Connor frowned and examined Kevin’s face intently. “There’s little bits of green in them too. Not a lot, but a little. And the rings around your irises are almost grey.”

“Good. What else?”

“You’ve got stubble,” Connor said, his entire being intent on finding every detail of Kevin’s face he could and Kevin could feel the acceleration of his heart begin to slow. “It’s just starting to come in. I think that razor you used is dull. You’ve got creases under and around your eyes and near your nose from smiling and you look kind of tired like you were up too late last night even though I know you weren’t.” His eyes turned up. “Your hair has lighter strands like they’ve been bleached from the sun, but I don’t know how you’ve managed that since you never go outside.” He let out a light laugh and Kevin echoed it, breathy and shaken.

His head was clearing somewhat and he wasn’t shaking anymore, though his heart was still beating too hard and too fast.

“You’re doing really good, Connor, but I need you to keep going.”

Connor nodded and searched for anything else he could describe to Kevin. “Your eyebrows follow the same curve as your bone structure, and they’re just a little darker than your hair.” He reached out and brushed some of Kevin’s hair, which had fallen in his panic to get offstage, back up away from his face, and the gesture alone was so tender and sweet that it made some of the discomfort go away. “You have a good hairline and a crease right here,” he said lightly touching Kevin’s forehead with his index finger, “from worrying so much. And your nose turns up just a bit at the end.”

As Connor described Kevin, Kevin was examining Connor as well. He took in his blue eyes, brought out by his blue suit. He took in his soft features and light freckles, the way his lips curved around his mouth, a little cracked from nervous licking. He looked at his eyelashes and the hair that he said wasn’t that red, but certainly looked red to Kevin. The way his eyes were just a tiny bit crossed and the folds of the pocket square that sat resolutely in his jacket.

“You look a little like Jim Carey in The Truman Show,” Connor said, breaking Kevin’s concentration. A grin split Connor’s features and Kevin smacked his arm.

“Focus,” he said through a smile.

“You’re right, sorry, you’re not nearly as handsome as young Jim Carey.”

“Shut up,” Kevin laughed.

“Hey, it’s better than looking like a youth pastor.”

“You’re right, being told I look like an ugly Jim Carey is way better than being told I look like a youth pastor.”

“Young Jim Carey,” Connor corrected him.

“We need you back on set.” They both looked up to find the clipboard woman hovering over them.

Connor exchanged a look with Kevin. His face filled with renewed worry and he placed an apprehensive hand on Kevin’s arm, careful not to touch his skin. “Are you okay to go on again? We can just go back to the hotel, we don’t have to stay.”

What Kevin wouldn’t give to just up and leave, but the look the woman was giving them was giving him a solid ‘no’ on that front, one he didn’t have the nerve to test. And besides that, Kevin wasn’t one to give up that easily. “I’m fine,” he said, swallowing back the remains of his panicked energy. “We’ve got to finish this. Not much longer.”

Connor smiled again, relief sitting warm in Kevin’s chest, and started to stand up, but Kevin grabbed his jacket sleeve and pulled him back down. “If you start to feel panicky again,” Kevin instructed him, “pick one thing to focus on. Just like we just did, okay?”

Connor nodded, and then Kevin let him go and they helped each other to their feet. Kevin was still a little shaky, but he managed to walk back into the wing where he was fitted with a new mic and told he could keep the water with him if he wanted, and Connor felt almost sturdy again. As long as Connor knew how to control his fear, Kevin would be okay. He held onto that reassurance as they both reentered the set, taking their seats as the man behind the cameras started to count them down.

“Are you okay?” Elizabeth asked him quietly, leaning across the space and looking genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine,” Kevin said with a smile and a wave of his hand. And while that wasn’t entirely true, it was close enough.

They were given a cue and suddenly their hosts were all smiles again. “And we’re back,” Nigel announced. “Here with us today are Kevin Price and Connor McKinley who were just telling us about their unique soul bond. Tell me, does it get crowded up there with all those feelings in your head?”

Connor blanched, but Kevin managed to smile and said, “It takes a lot of getting used to.”

The rest of the interview went quickly. It felt much more natural than most of their other interviews and so long as Kevin didn’t look out at the audience too much, simply enjoyed their laughter and applause, he wasn’t in any danger of falling apart. There was a point partway through the segment where he felt the anxiety begin to well up again, rising like boiling water up through his lungs, but only for a moment before it stilled. When he looked to Connor he found him staring at him intently, a smile flicking across his face at the eye contact and Kevin gave him a reassuring smile. He was learning. He was adapting and Kevin found a strange amount of pride in it.

“How do you feel?” Kevin asked him once they were being led back down the hall. There were after-show jitters coursing through them both and Connor’s came out of him in a nervous laugh.

“I feel okay?” he said as though he were uncertain. “I feel… a little nervous? It’s been a long time since I’ve felt properly nervous”

“Congratulations on hitting an emotional milestone. Chris would be proud of you.”

Connor felt happy, and therefor so did Kevin. It was a tentative happiness, ready to pull back the moment it was expelled by more fear, the kind of happiness that is felt by those who do not feel happy often.

“You did really well in that second segment,” Kevin said. Connor’s smile and joy grew more pronounced. “You got kind of nervous, but you fixed it. You didn’t even turn it off.”

Kevin recognized the words and the tone he was using. They were the same ones Gotswana used to use on him when he made progress in therapy or the words Arnold had learned to use when Kevin had good days shortly after his return. When directed at him they always had the effect of making him annoyed and self-conscious, too sharp of a reminder of who he was desperately trying not to be. But when he said them to Connor they felt natural and positive, and Connor’s response was as well.

“I just focused on you again,” Connor said with a sheepish shrug. “It was good advice. But I guess you really know how to deal with that stuff, huh?”

“I know how, doesn’t mean I actually do it.” Some things he had learned from doctors and from nurses, but others he had needed to learn on his own. There wasn’t any one right way to solve that particular problem and Kevin had spent many years learning what way worked for him. He supposed it made sense that it would work for Connor too.

“It was… different,” Connor said as they entered the natural light of the lobby. The crewman who had led them out shut the door behind them and they found themselves alone with the receptionist, who was engrossed in something on her computer. “You always talked about the panic attacks and the anxiety and stuff, but… to actually see it was really…”

“Different?” Kevin offered.

“Yeah.”

Kevin huffed a laugh and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he pushed through the door onto the street. “It wasn’t that bad,” he said. “As panic attacks go, that one was really mild.”

“But it was still a panic attack,” Connor insisted. “It’s not like that stuff that happened in Florgettaboutit, not like the overload, it’s so much more internal. It’s been so long since I’ve had one I’d almost forgotten what they were like. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Kevin replied. For such a busy street there was a surprising lack of taxis and he was forced to crane his neck to try to see out over traffic.

“But it kind of is.”

“Just because it came from you doesn’t mean you’re at fault. You didn’t do anything on purpose.”

Connor fell silent for a moment and Kevin managed to spot a cab just down the street. He waved to it and directed Connor in its direction up the sidewalk. Over the noise of the cars and the people pushing by them, he almost didn’t hear the quiet, “Sounds like you’re hitting some milestones of your own on this trip.” His mouth quirked, but he didn’t reply.

When they arrived back at their hotel room, they got changed back into their street clothes, Kevin mentioning something along the lines of, “When do you think we’ll be famous enough to get our own dressing rooms?” to which Connor replied something like, “When people stop caring about Hollywood and politics.” It was still light out, only the early evening, so when Connor mentioned that he was going to go out and have one last look around the neighbourhood and asked Kevin if he wanted to come along, Kevin said, “Sure,” and they grabbed their jackets and left.

“Would you ever come back to New York?” Connor asked Kevin.

They had found a hotdog cart several minutes walk away and were sitting down on a bench at a local park. It was finally getting dark, orange light contrasting sharply with blue against the leaves of the trees, and dog walkers and parents with children were being replaced with young adults and frightening people who were best steered clear of.

Kevin took a bite of his hotdog and considered all of it, wishing that he had done some more exploring while they had been there. There were many more directions to go and he would have liked to know what lay in each of them. So he nodded and said, “I would come back to New York state if it meant I got to see you on Broadway.”

And Connor laughed, a genuine laugh, and Kevin smiled to himself.

Things were only just starting to get good for the two of them, and he sincerely wished they could have stayed there a while longer, isolated from obligations like work and school, without the stressful expectations of interviews and steadily growing fame. But time passed and he had to return, so he decided to just enjoy it while he could.

“Freaks!”

Kevin and Connor’s heads both shot up in time to see a car shooting past them, carrying the owner of the voice they had heard away into the city.

Connor laughed a little to Kevin’s surprise. “It’s been a while since I got yelled at on the street,” he muttered, taking another bite of his hotdog.

“I’m honestly surprised it doesn’t happen more often,” Kevin admitted with a sigh. “With our faces plastered all over network television, you’d think people would recognize us more.”

“Maybe that’s level two of fame,” Connor said through half-chewed mush. “You’ve gotta be a certain level of famous for people to start hating you for it.”

Kevin considered that for a moment, staring off in the direction the car had gone. “’Perhaps you’re just different. It’s not a sin, you know. Though you may have heard otherwise.’”

Connor looked at him in confusion and just a tiny bit of admiration. “That’s almost profound,” he muttered.

“That’s from Star Trek,” Kevin told him. Star Wars may have won Arnold’s heart, but that didn’t mean Star Trek was any less prevalent in their home. He probably knew far more of both than he had any right to.

“’Perhaps you’re just different,’” Connor repeated distantly, a faint smile hovering on his lips as he looked down at his food. “Nothing wrong with being different.”

Kevin nodded. “I could live with being a freak.”


	16. Kevin Price Flirts

Arnold and Chris were waiting for them at the airport. They were greeted with hugs and questions and overwhelming joy and Kevin had almost forgotten how much he had missed Arnold.

As Chris drove them home, luggage stacked safely away in the trunk, Arnold rattled on and on about everything he could think of. He told Kevin about the dates he and Nabulungi had gone on and how well their relationship was going. He told him about how Chris had been teaching him more about how to cook and he was thinking of switching over to culinary school rather that continue with his general degree. Confused, Connor said he had thought Arnold was a media major to which Arnold had to admit he had made up because it sounded better than not knowing what he wanted to do with his life. He told them about how he and Chris and Nabulungi had recorded their talk show appearance to watch after classes and about how worried he had been when he had felt Kevin’s anxiety, but how relieved when he saw him fine and functioning onscreen.

“I’ve still got it recorded,” he told them, “so we can watch it together later.”

He had been slowly amassing a collection of all of Kevin and Connor’s media appearances on a set of DVD’s, which was old fashioned, but he said would last longer. Kevin was pleased and embarrassed, like a child who’s mother yelled too loud at a sporting event, and Arnold’s excitement was, as always, extremely infectious.

It didn’t feel right to tell Arnold about everything that had happened on the trip or about the reasons why he and Connor were suddenly getting along so well, a change that Chris was quick to point out. So he made a mental note to tell Arnold more once they were alone and Connor simply shrugged at Chris and told him, “Guess that’s what happens when you’re locked in a hotel room together for four days.” Then they all argued over whether it had been four days or if the first night and the last morning counted as full days rather than halves and Kevin maintained that they didn’t count at all and they had only been gone for three days and four nights and it all felt very right.

Kevin had never had proper friends before. His friends in elementary and middle school had been fake, his friends in high school had been obligations, but Connor and Chris and Arnold were a blessing. They made him happy and he felt nothing but regret that it had taken him so long to be happy.

His phone buzzed.

He checked it, declined the call, and then rejoined to conversation. But Connor stopped him and said, “Who keeps calling you? You’ve been getting phone calls all week, but you never answer them.”

Kevin hesitated. But there was no reason not to tell them. Honesty was something he wanted to work on, so he said, honestly, “My dad.”

“Why don’t you answer?” Chris asked as Arnold looked somber and Connor looked conflicted.

“He wouldn’t have anything good to say,” Kevin replied, trying to shake it off. He wanted the camaraderie back, he wanted joking and arguments and happiness, not this heavy mood. “Hey, why don’t we all go out for drinks tonight?” he said cheerily. “Connor suggested it yesterday and I think it’s a good idea. We can hang out, catch up, just relax for once.”

“Don’t you guys wanna rest up? You just got off a plane.”

“I’m fine,” Kevin said, wanting company now more than ever. “How about you, Connor?”

“I’m up for a few drinks,” Connor replied nonchalantly.

“How ‘bout it, then?”

“Okay,” Arnold agreed, happy to be wherever Kevin felt like going.

Chris cast them a glance in his rearview mirror and sighed. “Yeah, okay, why not. But I’m gonna drop you guys at your place first so you can at least drop your stuff off and get changed. I don’t mind telling you two you smell like airplane.”

“Oh, Arnold!” Connor said, twisting around in his seat eagerly, eyes wide. “Do you think Kevin looks like young Jim Carey?”

Arnold examined Kevin as Kevin rolled his eyes and slowly shook his head.

“Jim Carey in The Truman Show,” Connor said.

A beat passed and then Arnold’s eyes grew huge and he breathed out, “Holy shit,” and Connor burst out laughing.

~

When they arrived at the bar two hours later, Kevin wasn’t surprised to find it packed. Connor and Chris had told them to meet them there and it was a place Kevin had never been before, but he saw it on his way to school every day and it always looked bustling. For a weekday night it was probably one of the busier bars in the city and he and Arnold had to push their way through to find a booth near the back where they could reasonably hear one another, empty only due to the leftovers on it still waiting for cleanup.

Kevin was tired and he probably should have accepted the offer to simply rest for a while, but he had to go back to school the next day and he wanted to make his exploratory and social mood last as long as possible. It was likely he would regret it. But when he texted Connor that they were there and received a reply that Connor and Chris were just arriving, he was thrilled and excited and forgot about his exhaustion.

He felt Connor’s mood light up before he saw him and looked up from his glass of water to find him grinning from the crowd. He grinned back and moved to sit next to Arnold as Connor and Chris took the other side of the booth.

“You guys order anything yet?” Chris asked.

“We just got here,” Arnold replied, for once his loud voice proving to be a benefit rather than an annoyance.

“Well, I’m going to get some fries because I am starving.”

“I could use some fries,” Connor agreed.

“Good, get your own.”

It was very obvious that Connor had missed Chris. No matter what he had said in their hotel room, the two of them needed each other and in every glance, touch and comment, it was obvious they loved each other. Kevin wondered if he had missed that with Arnold. They had been together so much longer than their companions, but they also had more baggage. Kevin had been unkind and thoughtless, and every day he wanted more and more to undo what he had done, both to Arnold and to Connor, but it was difficult to know what to do.

Arnold loved Kevin, he knew that for sure, and he was positive he loved Arnold, but perhaps not as much as he should. Connor was a very physical person, however, and maybe Kevin was just seeing a different brand of love. He himself was physically reserved, unlike both Arnold and Connor, and had trouble showing love. For him, growing up, love had been praise and rigid rules and very little outright affection. Arnold had been so different from that, that growing up he didn’t see what Arnold did as love, he only saw it as a nuisance. Now he wished he knew how to repay that love.

Was he supposed to love Connor too? Love was meant to be inherent to a soulmate, but their path had been so winding and shaky, he wasn’t certain how to find the way to that point in their bond. He could imagine it, though. He could imagine loving Connor and that would have to do for now. It was a good sign, he figured, and a monument to the distance they had come. Love was very far away, but he had thought the same of friendship only days ago and now here they were joking around in a bar like nothing had ever happened.

Connor was too kind by half.

When a waitress brought them their drinks – beer for Connor, a cocktail for Chris, soda for Arnold, a shirley temple for Kevin – they clinked their glasses in cheers and Chris started up a one-sided argument with no one about how cocktails were way better than beer because they tasted better and had more alcohol, and the rest of them nodded along and agreed while he pretended they didn’t. Kevin tried to pay attention to Connor’s drinking, how fast he went and how much at a time, wanted to make sure he wasn’t caught by surprise when he was suddenly drunk by proxy.

“I’m getting white girl wasted,” Chris said once he finished his first drink.

“You didn’t even want to come,” Connor accused him. “And besides that, you have work tomorrow.”

“I’ve been hungover at work before, I can do it again,” Chris argued.

“Have you been hungover while serving me?” Kevin asked.

“I have no doubts that I have absolutely been hungover while serving you,” Chris told him firmly.

“That seems kind of dangerous,” Arnold said, stirring his straw through the ice in his cup.

“I’ve yet to throw up in someone’s coffee so I think it’s safe.”

“Kevin,” Connor said, voice and face absolutely serious, but he was making Kevin feel devilish. “I will pay you five dollars to go into the shop tomorrow morning and be as loud as you possibly can. Ten if you use a noisemaker.”

“I will take that action,” Kevin agreed. Connor passed him a bill and Kevin laughed. “You played yourself, Connor, I would have done it for free.” Connor beamed at him and Chris glared.

“Like I said, I’ve yet to throw up in anyone’s coffee, but I can spit in yours if the mood takes me,” he said and Kevin laughed. “Scoot,” he instructed Connor, pushing him out of the booth. “I’m not gonna get white girl wasted just sitting here.” Connor let him out of his seat and then resumed his place across from Kevin.

“Thank God we can walk home from here,” he said wryly.

“What was New York like?” Arnold asked, his excitement bubbling away in Kevin’s head. “Was it cool? Did you see anyone famous?”

“I think I may have seen Pamela Anderson in a pizza place the other night,” Connor lied brightly.

“That is absolutely not true,” Kevin said as Arnold exclaimed, “Oh cool!”

“It was gross and greasy and I saw more rats than I care to mention,” Kevin told Arnold flatly. “It wasn’t like we were in a good part of town. I’m not even sure we were technically in the city.”

“It was fun, though,” Connor said. “It wasn’t the best place in the world, but it’s nice to get out of state every now and again.”

“And what about-“ Arnold pointed at the two of them, his eyes flickering between them in suspicion. “It’s like you’re friends now, I haven’t heard you argue once. Kevin’s not even annoyed, that’s super rare.”

Kevin and Connor exchanged a look. The experience was a difficult one to describe in just a few words and there were certain things they felt would be best left unsaid as it was. Some of it, Kevin had already told Arnold, either over the phone or in the short period while they had been at home, but evidently it hadn’t been enough to sate his curiosity.

“Like I said,” Connor replied, still looking at Kevin, “getting locked in a hotel room together kind of forces you to get along. If not, you go a little crazy.”

“But everyone’s a little crazy,” Kevin said with a shrug. “We’re all our own special kinds of crazy.”

“Whatever happened,” Arnold continued, playing distractedly with his and Chris’s coasters, “I’m glad. It’s easier to pretend to be friends when you don’t have to pretend anymore. And now we get to actually hang out and be nice to each other and Kevin’s not gonna yell at anyone, and it’ll be like we’re normal people!”

In his excitement he dropped the coasters and didn’t seem to care in the slightest. Kevin smiled, halfway between embarrassed and affectionate. There were often moments where he felt or thought something that seemed too personal or otherwise inappropriate to say, and somehow Arnold would infallibly voice those thoughts. There was nothing psychic about it, just two people knowing each other better than anyone else in the world, but Kevin always thought it sounded better coming out of Arnold’s mouth than it would have coming from him. Maybe that was a little conceited. Or perhaps the opposite. Either way, he was glad to have a spokesperson for his innermost considerations.

“I missed you, Arnold,” Kevin said and Arnold glowed with pride. “And I don’t intend to yell at anyone,” he added, feeling like it needed to be said. Feeling like going on one way for so long that it had become expected of him and making the conscious choice to change was something he needed to be direct about. It was something he owed Arnold a thousand times over. And Connor, too, for that matter. “I really, really don’t want to be that person anymore, I want… to be better about all this. I want to be well-adjusted and kind and good and… as normal as it is possible for someone in our position to be.”

He was suddenly overwhelmed with fondness and pride from both sides, Arnold’s expressed plainly on his features and Connor’s only hinted at in his smile. Both of them warmed his chest and head and he felt something in his heart skip a little. “You need to stop that,” Kevin told them both warmly, “or it’s going to go straight to my head.”

Connor blushed and Kevin felt his embarrassment for him, but all it did was make him smile more.

“You guys all look way too serious,” Chris said. He had reappeared at their table, some bright purple cocktail in his hand with cubed fruit perched precariously on a pick at the rim. He gestured for Connor to get up and Connor begrudgingly obeyed, allowing him back into the booth. “I know I’m the only one who’s going to be seriously drinking tonight, but I need all of you to loosen up at least a little bit or you’ll be no fun at all.”

“Who says I’m not drinking seriously?” Connor asked as he resumed his seat.

“Um, I say,” Chris replied, like it was obvious. “And these two are witnesses to that.” He gave instructive looks to Arnold and Kevin and they both laughed uncertainly. “I can trust them, too, since they’ll be sober. And, to be honest, I’m a little bummed out I’ll be the only one getting drunk on a Monday night, but I’ve already committed, so bottoms up.” He took a swig of his drink and then made a face. “That’s the worst thing I’ve ever tasted.” Then he took another swig.

As the night wore on, Chris stayed true to his word and the rest of them watched on in amusement as he lost some of his inhibitions. Kevin felt a little jealous, an emotion he was quick to pin on Connor who was looking at each of the drinks just a little too longingly. But with Arnold and Kevin there to keep him company, he let himself get tipsy within Chris’s increasingly fuzzy guidelines, and Kevin felt that dullness the alcohol always gave him creep its way into his mind.

There were a few times when Kevin would feel an odd warmth in his chest, the glow of fondness that he usually directed towards Arnold, but on this night he knew was directed towards him. He would look up and find Connor looking at him from across the table and every inch of him was glad for the chance to finally have earned that fondness, to have broken though all those barriers he had set up for himself. But it was frightening too.

Partway through his third glass of water, he excused himself to the bathroom. Chris made sure to request he stop by the bar on his way back to get him, “whatever looks fruitiest,” and Kevin promised to do his best. Connor grabbed his sleeve on his way past and told him quietly to make it a virgin, to which Kevin nodded and laughed and promised to do his best.

Once he had reached the bathroom, he found it to be a grubby little hole in the bars wall. Only one stall and one urinal and he couldn’t tell if the walls had been painted that colour or simply aged their way to a disgusting greenish-beige. At the lone sink, washing his hands, listening to the muffled sounds of the bar outside, Kevin looked at himself in the mirror.

He wondered if he looked different.

He remembered a bathroom at a party in which he had taken a moment and felt an unexpected wave of dread wash through him at the thought. Had he been different back then? Had he really changed as much as he hoped he did or was it just wishful thinking? Perhaps it was just the dim light of the bar bathroom erasing some of his worry lines. He wondered how long it would last, the friendliness, the fondness, the smiles. He wondered how long he could go before something new broke him.

After a moment of contemplation, he remembered to turn off the water and dry his hands. That wasn’t something to be thinking about right now. He needed to keep himself on track and that didn’t involve assuming the worst. One of the things Gotswana had told him during his stay in the psych ward was that recovery meant acknowledging your mistakes, yes, but to move on from them. To assume well of himself, because if he didn’t then it would simply become a self-fulfilling prophesy. If he assumed he would break, then he would.

“You can do it,” he told his reflection. “How hard can it be?”

How hard could any of it be?

Walking back out into the noise and crowd, he found the bar and managed to get the bartender’s attention. It helped that it was a Monday night and those who were sensible had already gone home, the place already becoming less stiflingly crowded.

The bartender was a young man, relatively good-looking, and he cast Kevin a smile as he approached. “And what can I get for you?” he asked.

“What’s your fruitiest drink?” Kevin asked with a sigh and a wry smile, trying to make it obvious it wasn’t for him.

“That’d be the Vibrant Sunrise if you’re into gin.”

“Sure, why not.”

He pulled out a glass and made a small show of rimming it with salt, eyes glancing periodically up at Kevin who was letting his mind wander as he watched. But when the bartender started throwing ingredients together in a shaker and pulled out the bottle of gin, Kevin remembered himself and stopped him. “Wait, can you make it a virgin?”

The bartender smiled and said, “For you? Sure.”

And, well, Kevin wasn’t really sure what to do with that. Fortunately, he didn’t have to come up with anything because the bartender seemed to be in a talkative mood. “Aren’t you that guy from TV? The one with the soulmates?”

Kevin laughed a little. “Yeah, that’d be me.”

“You are all anyone’s talking about these days.” He started shaking the drink and Kevin watched the shiny metal container move, aware of the man’s eyes locked on him.

“I don’t see why,” Kevin replied, glancing over to meet his eyes briefly. “There’s plenty more going on in the world that’s way more interesting.”

“Makes for a nice change of pace, though.” He opened up the shaker and poured the contents into the glass over ice. “All those old men on the news talking about tariffs and crime; it’s nice to see a pretty face like yours every now and again.”

It wasn’t like Kevin was uninterested. In fact, on another night, he may have risen to the invitation to flirt, ready to flaunt his good looks and underutilized charms, but at the moment he mostly just wanted to get back to his table. That wasn’t to say he wouldn’t respond, just that he wouldn’t take it farther than it needed to go. “You need a pretty face, just go look in a mirror.”

The bartender stared at him for a while, a smile slowly growing into a grin on his mouth until he could no longer contain it and let out a sneeze of a laugh. “Cheese is usually served with wine, not a virgin Vibrant Sunrise,” he said, putting the drink on the counter in front of Kevin and Kevin smiled down at it, a little embarrassed.

Okay, maybe his natural rapport with Connor had given him a false sense of capability in this department, but at least it had gotten a laugh. “That was a little corny, wasn’t it?”

“With good looks and fame, you don’t need to be smooth.”

“I’m not famous,” Kevin said bashfully. “I’m… well-known.”

“I know a couple dozen people who would beg to differ.”

“Oh, don’t tell me that, I don’t think my ego can inflate any more and still be within health and safety guidelines. It’ll suck all the air out of the room.”

The bartender laughed again, his teeth almost artificially straight, and all Kevin knew was he wanted to make this man laugh as often as possible. “I’m Anthony, by the way,” he said, extending a hand, which Kevin took happily.

“Kevin,” Kevin said.

“You don’t say,” Anthony said with a smirk and Kevin felt himself blush. Obviously this guy would know his name, it was stupid to assume he wouldn’t. “What are you doing later tonight, Kevin?”

“How much later?” A stupid answer. He just couldn’t get his mind straight. Wasn’t that always the problem? The moment a boy showed interest Kevin would start trying too hard and ruin it. Flirting was supposed to be natural and fun, not… whatever the hell it was he was doing.

But Anthony didn’t appear to be dissuaded and replied, “I get off work at 2 if you’re still around.”

A part of Kevin’s mind, a part that was growing more and more distant these days, balked at the idea of staying out past midnight on a school night, but most of his mind was suddenly swept up in the most unexpected feeling of jealousy. Or maybe possessiveness? For a moment he stood staring at Anthony in confusion, wondering what on earth he had to feel possessive of, until he realized that it wasn’t him.

Connor was watching them from across the room. In the dying Monday buzz of patrons there was a direct line of sight from their booth to the bar and when Kevin turned to look at Connor he just managed to catch his gaze before he turned back to Arnold sitting across from him and his blank expression flowering into a smile that wasn’t accompanied by any feelings of joy in Kevin’s chest.

Had Connor been feeling jealous of Kevin? Had he been keeping his eye on the bartender this whole time? Anthony wasn’t exactly Kevin’s usual type, but he could certainly have been Connor’s, and in the midst of that jealousy Kevin felt a little guilty at acquiring Anthony’s fascinations when it seemed Connor had been harbouring an interest. Connor could have easily achieved the same result if it had been him instead of Kevin to approach the bar, Kevin thought, and had he known…

Turning back to Anthony, brow furrowed, Kevin said, “Actually, I don’t think I am free.”

“Oh,” Anthony said, a little surprised, but he recovered instantly, his smile becoming more pleasant and less mischievous. “Well, maybe sometime later this week?”

“You know, I don’t think I’m free at all this week. I’ve got class, you know, and assignments, and exams are coming up, I don’t think- It’s just not really a good time right now.” He tried to look apologetic, but the disappointment was clear on Anthony’s face. “But my friend, Connor, might be free,” Kevin suggested, indicating the booth where Connor was deeply involved in conversation with their companions. “I could ask him if you’d like.”

Anthony peered over at Connor, looking disinterested, and gave Kevin a polite smile. “No thanks,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I don’t think I’m so free as I thought either.”

A bitter taste washed through Kevin’s mouth, but he nodded and kept his features schooled.

“Here,” Anthony said, grabbing a cocktail napkin and scribbling on it with a blue pen. He held it out to Kevin who took it tentatively. “If it turns out you are free sometime this week, give me a call.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Kevin replied with absolutely no intention of even glancing at the digits as he stuffed the napkin into his back pocket. “But I really don’t think I will be. Fame keeps me busy.”

“I thought you said you weren’t famous,” Anthony said with a smirk.

Kevin replied with a tight smile. “Yeah, but I changed my mind.” Then he picked up the cocktail, thanked Anthony with a nod, and made his way back to the booth.

When he arrived and sat down he could feel Connor’s eyes on him, but he kept his attention on the drink as he passed it across the table to Chris who seemed very worked up over something.

“Finally,” Chris said, immediately taking a sip. He didn’t seem to notice the absence of alcohol and drove right on through to his next important thought. “I was starting to think we’d have to send a search party out for you, you’ve been greatly missed. Kevin, I need you to tell Arnold here that Paul Blart: Mall Cop is an inaccurate representation of mall security protocol.”

“I never said it was accurate!” Arnold blurted out, just as invested in whatever argument they had been having while Kevin had been away. “I just said it was a good example of the kind of thing mall security might have to handle.”

“But it’s not!”

“But it could be! People steal from malls all the time, people bring guns into malls, it’s a dangerous place!”

“That doesn’t mean mall cops are higher up the food chain than museum security!”

“Museum security guards spend all their time just wandering around or staring at screens! There’s hardly ever any real heists, they don’t do anything!”

“Paul Blart clearly frames mall security as the underdog in terms of security hierarchy! They’re the bottom of the barrel! Even Paul didn’t want to be a mall cop, he wanted to be a real cop, but they wouldn’t take him!”

“Have they been arguing about this the entire time?” Kevin asked Connor who looked wearily resigned to the situation.

Connor shrugged. “Earlier they were arguing about how much time actually passed during the Lord of the Rings trilogy.”

“It was years!” Arnold exclaimed, and Kevin recognized that old argument as one they had had countless times.

“If it was years then they should have made it more clear!” Chris yelled as Connor took the opportunity to steal a handful of his french-fries. “I don’t care what it says in the books, the movie didn’t make it explicit that so much time had passed. Literally all they had to do was have Frodo say something like, ‘Wow, I can’t believe we’ve been trying to get this ring to Modor for the past two years!’ or, ‘Wow, I can’t believe it’s been 15 years in the Shire since Bilbo gave me the ring and then disappeared and only now is Gandalf actually going to do something about it!’”

“It’s Mordor and you know it!”

“What were you and the bartender talking about?” Connor asked Kevin, and Kevin was grateful for a chance to escape the rabbit hole Arnold was about to launch them all into.

“Nothing, we were just talking.” He reached into his pocket and tossed the crumpled napkin onto the table between them. “He gave me his number, but I told him I wasn’t interested.”

Another sharp pang of jealousy hit Kevin and he wished he could tell Connor that Anthony wasn’t worth his time without explicitly revealing he had been noticing those particular emotions. So instead, he tried to show his own disinterest as prominently as possible in the hopes that Connor would get the hint and understand that nothing was going to happen. “He was kind of a dick, to be honest, and he’s not really my type anyways so-“

Arnold interrupted Kevin’s intentionally casual display with a burst of excitement in his head and a vocal exclamation to match. “Awe man, Kevin got digits!” he very nearly shouted, snatching up the napkin as Kevin stole a quick look to the bar to be certain that Anthony hadn’t heard. “You gonna call him, dude?”

“No! No,” Kevin replied a little too quickly. “He’s, uh, not really my type.”

“That’s garbage, man, he’s dreamy.”

“Should I tell Nabulungi she should be worried?” Kevin asked in amusement and Arnold waved him off.

“Laugh all you want, but even I can tell that man’s a dreamboat.”

“So what is your type then?” Connor asked, folding his arms and smiling in entertainment.

Kevin laughed nervously and felt… hopeful? Now there was an odd reaction. In fact, it was odd enough that he couldn’t really pin it on either of them, so he chose to ignore it instead and defend himself from the multi-angled attack his soulmates were hitting him with. “I don’t have one, but I do have a not-type and my not-type is him.”

“Is it bears, Kevin?” Chris asked, drink in hand. “Is your type big, hairy men? You can tell us, this is a safe space.”

With the waver in Chris’s posture, Kevin was too busy laughing to be embarrassed and Connor asked, kindly, but with a laugh hidden beneath his voice, “Chris, have you been drinking any water with those?”

“Not a drop,” Chris told him proudly. Then a look of shock stole over his face and he gasped, turning wide eyes to Kevin. “Is it me? Am I your type? Have you been pining for me this whole time?”

“And I think that’s our cue to go home,” Connor told them all and Chris made a noise that was halfway between a whine and a groan. “Come on,” Connor said, grabbing Chris by the arm and trying to drag him out of the booth, “let’s get you home.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay just a little while longer?” Kevin asked hopefully and Connor answered him with a curious expression.

“It’s getting late, Kevin. I thought you of all people would want to get out of here on time.”

Kevin looked to Arnold who was casting him a similar expression of confusion and Kevin supposed they were right. Checking his phone, it was much later than he had thought, but still, he was reluctant to give up the occasion. Despite their social intimacy thanks to recent events, they never really hung out casually and Kevin was worried they would fall back into old habits if they left. He knew it was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help himself.

Still, he sighed and nodded and said, “Yeah, you’re right,” and got up from his seat, letting Arnold shuffle out as well. “I guess it’s time to get going.”

Stepping out into the cool night air, they paused just outside the bar to turn to one another and smile. “See you on Thursday, yeah?” Connor asked Kevin

Their first session with Gotswana. Kevin had very nearly forgotten with everything that had been going on and it soured his mood a little, but it was nice to have the certainty of seeing Connor again, even if it would be a few days.

That surprised Kevin. Had he gotten so used to having Connor around that it really bothered him not to be around him for just a few days? Maybe that was normal for soulmates. It was how he had felt about being apart from Arnold during his brief absence, after all, so maybe it was normal. But then, when had Kevin ever been normal?

“See you on Thursday,” he replied with a smile.

Then they all said their goodbyes and parted ways, Chris’s voice echoing all down the dark street as he cried out, “Let me go, Kevin, it would never work! We’re just too different!”

“I don’t care how it happened,” Arnold told Kevin as they walked home, the sidewalks, set aglow by the occasional storefront, near empty by that time of night, “I’m just glad you guys are friends now.”

“Me too,” Kevin said quietly.

That night, laying awake in bed, having just checked his midterm marks and about to go to sleep, Kevin felt anxious. Even just a few weeks ago this type of anxiety could be easily explained away as an anomaly of mental health, a usual occurrence in the world of Kevin’s head. But tonight he knew better. Of all the things he had to be anxious about, he could tell this wasn’t any of them.

Concerned, he reached for his phone.

‘Hey Connor, are you okay?’

He sat back and waited, but a reply didn’t take long.

‘I thought I was. Is something wrong?’

‘You’re nervous.’

There was a long pause. And then:

‘I guess I’m a little worried about going to sleep by myself tonight.’

Kevin started to type out a response, but another message arrived before he could finish.

‘I kind of got used to having you around.’

Kevin smiled a little, but the apprehension and worry in his head weren’t going away so he said:

‘Do you want me to come over?’

Chewing on his nail he waited for the reply, trying to pick out any changes in his mood, but unable to get past the base anxiety.

‘No, it’s fine.’

He considered it for a moment, the words, the feelings, the want he felt. He wanted to go there, he wanted to be near Connor again, like any soulmate would, but he also wanted to respect his space, even if some of that want wasn’t his. Connor had been handling these dreams on his own for God knew how long, returning to that wasn’t an impossible task, he knew. But he also knew returning to that was unnecessary. He knew it was unwanted. He knew how frightening and lonely it could be.

‘Call me tonight when it wakes you up if you want.’

He hesitated to hit Send, but once he did, once it had been read, he felt something inexplicable rise in his chest. It wasn’t a feeling he could rightly identify, though it was one he had felt before, and he couldn’t say whether it was good or bad. He couldn’t say who it belonged to either.

‘Goodnight, Kevin.’

‘Goodnight.’

Kevin slept fitfully, as he always did, but on that night he could not remember his dream. When he woke up at nearly 2:30 in the morning, he immediately reached over to switch on his bedside lamp.

“Why’s the light on?” Arnold muttered as he pushed open the door, squinting into the dim glow of Kevin’s room.

“I… wanted to make sure I didn’t fall back to sleep,” Kevin told him.

Arnold trudged across the room and sunk heavily into Kevin’s bed, closing his eyes, but letting one of his hands land on Kevin’s forearm, letting the blue calm him, and Kevin let it happen even as his mind was on other things. It didn’t take long before Arnold was snoring again, but Kevin sat awake in bed, staring at his phone, willing it to go off, hoping that it wouldn’t.

An hour later he fell back to sleep, his phone untouched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently had the realization that I can make this literally as long as I want, so I'm extremely sorry and also very excited.
> 
> Also, shoutout to Kevin for literally getting offended that someone didn't find Connor attractive.
> 
> -G


	17. Kevin Price is Late

The costume shop was brighter than Kevin remembered it. Obviously it was brighter, he admonished himself, the lights were actually on this time. It was almost a completely different place with the lights on and without the horrific tension it had held the last time he had been there, and looking around he could envision the path they had followed, saw the blue rayon, but it didn’t make him feel any sort of distress. It seemed almost foolish that this room, filled with bright colours and the quiet whir of a sewing machine, could possibly house any sort of animosity. But with a stony expression, Kevin knew better.

There were a couple of students working away at some assignment or other on the other end of the room and one sitting at the sewing machine Kevin had distracted himself with once upon a time, but there was no sign of Connor anywhere. To his left, however, the door Connor had once emerged from was sitting open and the lights beyond it were on. Cautiously, he approached the open doorway and peered through.

It was a long, narrow room laying parallel to the exterior shop, lined on one side with shelves holding boxes, labeled as hats or hosiery or shoes, and a long row of stacked clothing racks on the other. It was a claustrophobic room and smelled incredibly musty, but Kevin pushed inside. He couldn’t see anyone, but with the thick forest of costumes it was damn near impossible to see anything hidden in the racks. Wandering down the aisle way, he peered into the shallow alcoves formed by the clothes. It almost felt like a prison, the tight corridor leading off into cloth-lined cells, and the thought made Kevin’s chest tighten a little.

“Connor?” he called out nervously.

Something tripped in his chest and a head popped out into the open. “Kevin!” Connor replied, surprised. “I thought we weren’t meeting until three.”

Kevin hurried over to him as he vanished back into the jungle and found him struggling to collapse a stepladder that was clearly used to reach the clothes on the top rows of the racks. “We were, but class got out early. Prof forgot to mark our papers. Do you need help with that?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Connor replied, his voice strained with the effort to get the ladder shut. Suddenly, the support arms folded and the ladder fell shut, barely missing Connor’s fingers as he jerked away to let it fall against the back wall with a slam. “That works, I guess,” he said with a smile to Kevin, though Kevin had felt the momentary terror shoot through his chest, more than enough for two people.

Connor stepped forward to pick the ladder up, clumsily letting it fall sideways so he could get a better grip, and after a moment of watching him struggle to balance it, Kevin stepped forward and grabbed an end. “What are you doing?” he asked, letting Connor adjust his grip. He seemed out of breath like he had been wrestling with the ladder for quite some time.

“Cataloguing?” Connor answered, uncertainly. He finally managed to get a hold of the ladder and Kevin let go gingerly. “I’m, uh… I’m checking?” He walked forward, forcing Kevin out into the open where he moved off to the side to let Connor through. “Second years just got through with a major assignment, so I’m making sure they brought everything back. It’s in the logs, but they’re pretty careless with where they throw their costumes. Sometimes things get missed.” He managed to maneuver the ladder into the next alcove where he carefully set it back up. Once he was certain it wasn’t going to collapse, he pushed past Kevin to return to the previous alcove, coming back out with a beat up binder in hand.

Kevin watched in apprehension as Connor mounted the ladder. It looked rickety, but once he was at the top, Connor seemed completely at ease, taking a level stance and flipping open his binder. “Is this all you do in here?” Kevin asked.

Connor glanced at him and shook his head. “No, I spend a lot of time helping younger students pull things or try things on.” He marked something off with his finger before peering intently at the costumes hanging in front of him. It looked like a section of fancy jackets, ranging from slate grey or black to a glittery tailcoat that was either red or purple depending on the angle you looked at it from. “I spend a lot of time putting things away too, or pulling them for the main stages,” he muttered, reaching out a hand to flick through the jackets. They were so tightly packed in that they barely moved. “It’s all… incredibly boring.” He made a face and reached between two dinner jackets to pull something free and his hand emerged with what looked to be a pink sequined waistcoat with gold trim. “That’s not supposed to be there. Here, take this.”

He passed the waistcoat down to Kevin who took it dubiously. “If it’s so boring, why do you still do it?”

“What can I say? I like money. And I’m being dramatic, it’s not actually that bad.” Connor appeared next to him and took the waistcoat out of his hand, looking it over with a smirk. “I wore one of these for my voice and speech final in third year,” he said fondly.

“What did you do? Tap dance?” He couldn’t possibly see such a flashy piece being used for anything less, but Connor cast him a withering glare.

“Very funny. It was a modern piece. I monologued.”

He led them both back into the aisle and down towards the door, into the very last alcove. “How do you even put that on?” Kevin asked. “It doesn’t even have a back or… real buttons.”

Connor smirked as he found a section of the rack that held several more of the same piece, walking his fingers through them until he found the right spot and pushed it into the mass of cloth. “It was originally for a show about six years ago where the actors had to make a really fast costume change in the dark during a musical number.” He pulled out a replica of the waistcoat, a few sizes larger, and turned to face Kevin as he removed it from its hanger. “They couldn’t get offstage so they had to be already wearing it. It’s got snaps here,” he said, opening up the neck at the back, “and another two down here,” he said, opening up the bottom, “that’s sewn into the lining so you can’t see them when it’s done up.”

Holding the open collar, he wrapped it around Kevin’s neck and did up the snaps, then turned him around and did up the back. It was a snug fit and Kevin looked around for a mirror. “The actors would go onstage with the collar undone and the whole thing tucked under their waistbands. Then in the blackout they could pull them up and do up the collar for an onstage quick-change,” Connor explained.

Stepping out, he found a small dressing area off to the other side of the door that had a standing mirror and, on seeing himself, he immediately let out a loud and obnoxious, “Ha!”

Connor appeared behind him in the reflection grinning in amusement. “Yeah, that was my reaction when I first put it on too.”

“Not gonna lie, I kind of love it,” Kevin said, turning this way and that to get a look at himself from every angle. The tight fit on top of his loose t-shirt looked absolutely ridiculous and he decided he was going to wear it for as long as possible.

“Well, it’s definitely your colour,” Connor quipped. Then he stepped out of sight saying, “I don’t have much left to do, shouldn’t be too long. You can try on whatever you want as long as you put it back after.”

“Oh, you’re going to regret saying that.”

Soon enough Connor had reached the end of the storage area, crouching on the ladder, trying to see through the sea of robes and miscellaneous costumes for a specific cape while Kevin stood at beneath him decked out in the waistcoat, an army helmet, several scarves, and a set of snakeskin cowboy boots. “Connor, we’re going to be late,” he said, one boot on the bottom rung of the ladder, keeping it still for the sake of his heart. “I got here early so we could leave on time.”

“I know, I know, I’m almost done,” Connor replied with a wave of his hand. “Do you see cheetah print anywhere in there?”

Kevin examined the mass of costumes briefly before sighing and shaking his head. “You’ve been saying you were almost done for fifteen minutes now.”

“And now it’s true. The faster I find this cape the faster we can get out of here.”

Something was fluttering in Kevin’s chest, working it’s way up through his throat, and although it was the type of feeling he would expect of himself in the face of tardiness he somehow knew it was Connor. “Are you nervous about seeing Gotswana?” he asked.

Connor glanced down at him and the flutter flared up, confirming what Kevin suspected before Connor had even said anything. “No,” he lied. “I legitimately need to get this done.”

“It’s okay if you are nervous,” Kevin said. “I was pretty nervous about it too.”

“This time or the first time?”

Kevin thought about it for a moment. “Both,” he said with a shrug.

“It’s not that I’m nervous, really,” Connor said, trying to push costumes apart with one hand while the other held tightly to the ladder, “it’s more that… I’m concerned.”

“Is there a difference?”

Connor cast him a glance, brow furrowed. “Probably not. But it feels like it’s worth noting.” His eyes lit up when they returned to his task and he said, “Oh, here it is.” His hand emerged gripping a flowing cape of crushed red velvet lined, inexplicably, with cheetah-print fake fur.

“Oh, you have got to let me wear that,” Kevin fawned and Connor gave him a bemused smile.

“Thought you said we were late.”

“We’re going to be late either way, might as well make it worth it.”

He moved to the side as Connor hopped off the ladder, cape in hand, and watched as Connor took in his ensemble. Biting his lip to keep from smirking, Connor brought the cape around Kevin’s neck and tied it up for him, adjusting it around his shoulders so it hung properly. Kevin’s heart was beating low and hard in his chest and Connor took a step back to look him up and down.

“Well, it’s a daring look, but you pull it off,” he said, the smirk escaping and swiftly evolving into a full-on grin. “No one ever said a philosophy student couldn’t look fabulous.”

“I’m pretty sure Descartes said something along those line actually.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“If I run, d’you think it’ll fly up behind me?”

Connor quirked an eyebrow and gave him a mischievous expression. “Only one way to find out.”

Kevin beamed at him and then, quick as he could, took off at full speed down the aisle, pushing the cape back with his hands to encourage it to lift up, but far too soon he had reached the end of the room. He whipped around to find Connor attempting to contain himself at the far end. “Did it look cool?” Kevin demanded to know.

“I think the room is too short,” Connor called back.

“What do you suggest?”

Connor smiled. “I might have an idea.”

It was sunny outside, getting warmer every day, and Kevin was pleased to note he wouldn’t need a jacket. Connor had forced him to take off the snakeskin boots, which Kevin lobbied hard for, but apparently they couldn’t risk him stepping in anything and messing them up.

“Really, we shouldn’t be taking any of this out of the building,” Connor had said. “This is probably in direct violation of the contract I signed.”

“But it’ll be worth it,” Kevin had replied, and Connor couldn’t find it in himself to disagree.

“You ready?” Kevin now called from across the quad.

Connor stood opposite, his phone up and waiting, and he yelled back, “Ready!”

A few students milled about, their attentions momentarily captured by the pair, but Kevin somehow didn’t care. His face had been on television screens all across the country, his story had been told a hundred times, he had been seen at his worst by a nation. What were a few more looks going to do to him?

He bent his knees, ready to sprint. The waistcoat was still too tight, threatening to pop a snap, and he was worried the helmet would fall off his head and get one or both of them in trouble by getting scraped up on the pavement, but the cape lent him some sense of authority and courage. He tried to school his features, fighting against a devilish grin, and gripped his fists, rocking back and forth like he had seen runners do on TV.

“Go!” he shouted.

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, kept his face stony, pumped his arms hard, and kept his eyes trained on Connor who’s attention was locked on the screen in front of him. The cape pulled back at his neck and, though the wind tugged at his helmet, the chinstrap kept it firmly locked to his head. About halfway across the quad, he couldn’t hold his smile back anymore, his face breaking open in a look of pure thrill, his own and Connor’s excitement combining in his chest, bursting up through his lungs in a single loud “Ha!”

When he reached Connor, he realized in his excitement he had misjudged and there was no way he could slow down in time. The most he could do was adjust his angle, so instead of slamming into the boy, he managed to hook an arm around his stomach as he shot past him, trying to anchor himself, but only succeeding in sending them both stumbling up the pathway as Connor cried out his name in an increasingly alarmed tone. But they caught themselves and Kevin managed to catch Connor as he very nearly fell over, the two of them laughing as Kevin’s breaths heaved out of him and Connor got himself upright, pushing back his disheveled hair.

“I’m not doing another take,” Kevin said through gasps and giggles.

Connor was hitting buttons on his phone, one arm held up against Kevin’s chest, though he didn’t need the support anymore. Kevin brought a hand up to grip Connor’s wrist and it did nothing to dim his mood, didn’t dull anything, just sent another wave of giggles through them both.

“How does it look?” he asked, trying to get a look at the screen.

Connor retracted his arm and held the phone up between them. “Let’s find out,” he said.

They watched in fascination as the video played, a slow motion filter making every flutter of Kevin’s cape a grand heroic gesture, the determination on his face combined with the helmet contrasting hilariously with his pink vest, which sparkled in the afternoon sun every time his right arm pumped forward.

“Stephen Spielberg has nothing on us,” Kevin said.

“I honestly think we should just drop out of school now and move to Hollywood,” Connor agreed.

The video reached the point where Kevin’s façade broke and he made a face as he saw the joyous expression on his past self explode in slow motion. “Oh, God, okay, even Hollywood needs editors sometimes.”

“What are you talking about?” Connor asked through a smile. “You look great. You look so happy!”

“I look deformed.”

“You have a beautiful smile,” Connor told him, “and happiness looks good on everyone.” A nervous feeling crept at the pit of Kevin’s stomach like a ball of excitement, only it didn’t expand, just sat there, sending little arms of electricity up the walls of his belly.

Video Kevin drew agonizingly close and there was the deep, slowed down sound of Connor crying out, “Kevin, Kevin, Kevin!” as they slammed into one another and the camera angle swung sharply at the sky and then the pavement where it stopped.

“I still think I should’ve worn the boots,” Kevin said and Connor rolled his eyes.

“Speaking of, we should probably get you back inside. We’re drawing attention and I don’t want this getting back to the head of the department.”

“Why not? She might give us a movie deal.”

“Yeah, or fire me. Now come on.” He took hold of Kevin’s arm and pulled him back in the direction of the theatre building as onlookers muttered and laughed nearby.

“We’re gonna be so late,” Kevin muttered, and for some reason the prospect thrilled him.

“Kevin, can I ask you something?” Connor asked as they walked up the steps to the great wooden doors. Opening them, they were greeted, as always, by the enormous stained glass window opposite, and both the question and the ecclesiastical aura of the building made Kevin nervous.

“Sure.”

“End of the year is coming up, so all our final performances are happening soon,” Connor said. He led them down the stairs and through the doorway leading to the costume shop. “I’m in the mens’ choir, I don’t know if I ever told you that, but we’re performing in a couple weeks along with the womens’ choir and I was wondering if you’d want to come? It’s on April 5.”

Kevin was a little surprised, but mostly he was just relieved it hadn’t been anything too serious. “Yeah,” he said as they entered back into the shop. The other students had left and it was getting to be well past three in the afternoon. “Sure, I’ll come.”

“Great,” Connor said, flushing with relief and smiling to himself. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to since I know stuff like that isn’t really your thing.” He paused at the door to the storage room and looked over to Kevin who had surprised himself in the mirror, having forgotten his ridiculous get-up. “It might be kind of boring for you, but it means a lot that you’ll come.”

Examining himself one last time in the mirror, Kevin tried to ignore the odd feelings Connor was having, the nerves and quiet pleasure. “Of course I’ll come,” he said, striking a pose. He flashed a grin at Connor. “Gotta support my soulmate.”

~

They were late.

Despite the lack of anxiety surrounding his punctuality back at the school, Kevin could feel it surging up again when they checked in with the receptionist and was worried she might think he was taking this lightly. He knew Gotswana would be fine with it, Kevin had been late to plenty of appointments thanks to various problems, but it still clutched at his heart tightly as she told them he was waiting in his office for them.

They had already been in to see Gotswana once, just an overview to sort out the broader details of their situation and what they wanted to accomplish with their sessions, and the place was already familiar to Kevin. It was a different office than the one they had been in the previous year, but it was warmly coloured and comfortably furnished, just like the old one had been, and it set Kevin’s mind at ease to see Gotswana had retained his old couch and chairs.

“Kevin and Connor!” Gotswana cried out as they stepped inside. He stood from his desk and hurried over to shake their hands. “Good to see you again. I am very excited to start with you both, I hope you feel the same.”

He was the same as ever, and Kevin was caught between feeling comfortable with a familiar presence and unnerved by the memories that accompanied it. “Good to see you too, Gotswana,” he replied, trying to smile.

“Please, come. Sit.” He gestured to the chairs and couch, and Kevin and Connor settled themselves into the couch, side by side, as Gotswana took up residence of a chair.

There was a recording device set up on the table between them, provided by the hospital. It had been agreed upon that their sessions could be recorded for the sake of “scientific advancement,” as Dr. Smith had put it, and in return the hospital would cover costs. It all felt much too experiment-y to Kevin, but he had gone along with it anyways because he would rather be listened in on by Big Brother than be saddled with therapy payments. Still, he eyed it distrustfully as Gostwana leaned forward to turn it on as he went over the agreement, as he was legally obligated to.

“How are you both feeling?” he asked eagerly, leaning forward in his seat, hands clasped together in front of him.

From what Kevin could remember of the doctor, he was a very excitable man, but good-intentioned, and a genuinely decent psychotherapist when it came down to it. “We feel okay,” Kevin replied, casting a look to Connor who nodded. “It’s been a long day, but a good one, I think.”

“Good! It’s good to have a good day!” he exclaimed. “And what do you think Connor?”

“I agree,” Connor said uncertainly. “It’s been long, but good.” A shy smile worked its way onto his mouth and there was a tiny amount of happiness leaking from him into Kevin. “I worked today, so it was kind of boring, but Kevin and I had some fun and it all turned out okay.”

“It’s kind of why we were late,” Kevin explained apologetically. “Sorry about that, by the way, we really meant to get here on time, but we just sort of got… caught up in the moment.”

Gotswana waved his apology off and said, “It happens. We would all rather have fun than be sitting in an office talking to doctors, I think. Are you excited to begin?”

He was grinning at them, either desperately thrilled they were there or very good at faking it. “Sure,” Kevin said with a shrug, and Gotswana made a disappointed face and Kevin was instantly kicking himself.

“Only ‘sure’?” he asked. “Not yes or no? Are you uncertain?”

“Well, Connor was-“ He cut himself off, not wanting to throw Connor under the bus, and figured that a change in wording wasn’t technically lying. “We’re both a little concerned about the process. Nervous.”

“And why’s that?”

Kevin looked to Connor, hoping he would explain his concerns, because for all that Kevin could feel him, he couldn’t read his mind. Connor looked between the two of them, looking as uncomfortable as he felt. “Well, um… It’s been a very long time since I’ve been to therapy,” Connor said with a light laugh. “It, uh- hasn’t always been a happy experience for me.”

Immediately, Kevin remembered Connor’s history and berated himself for forgetting. Obviously Connor would be uncomfortable in a therapist’s office, even one like Gotswana, who, to an outside observer, looked as far removed from “therapist” as one could get. He shifted in his seat, wanting to apologize for the oversight, but not wanting to put him on the spot more than he already had.

“There are good therapists and there are bad therapists,” Gotswana agreed with a nod. “I am neither. I am a psychotherapist! And I like to think I am very good. Do you think I’m good, Kevin?”

“I think you’re excellent,” Kevin said with a smile and a chuckle. He had forgotten how animated Gotswana could be. He seemed to hardly ever be sitting still.

“He thinks I’m excellent,” Gotswana told Connor while pointing to Kevin. “He’s lying, but he’s nice about it. Now, I’m not going to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with, Connor. We’re going to go at your pace and if anything makes you feel uncomfortable or unsafe, you can stop us at any time. It’s good to know your limits.”

Connor quirked a smile and looked down at his hands. “Well, I can already tell you’re much better than my last therapist.”

Gotswana grinned. “I don’t think you’re lying, but if you are, then thank you, you’re very kind.”

“Are psychotherapists supposed to accuse their patients of lying this much?”

“Absolutely not,” Gotswana told him cheerily, “but I try not to be like everyone else or it can become boring. So, Kevin,” he said, turning to face his other patient, “What about this is making you concerned and nervous?”

Kevin was caught a little off guard by the question and looked to Connor like he might have a second answer saved up for him, but Connor just watched him expectantly and Kevin looked back at Gotswana who was still smiling. He smiled naturally. Not like Connor, not like Dr. Smith, but like a man who was genuinely pleased to be there. It was difficult to feel intimidated by a smile like that.

“I’m not sure,” Kevin admitted. “I guess a lot of it is just me feeling what Connor feels. I don’t necessarily have a reason, I just… sort of… absorb those feelings too.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Makes me feel like Connor,” Kevin joked, but Gotswana didn’t laugh, though he didn’t drop his demeanor either. Kevin cleared his throat and glanced at Connor, a little self-conscious. “I’m getting used to it,” he said. “I didn’t like it at first, didn’t like knowing I was feeling somebody else’s feelings, but I’m… becoming okay with it.”

“Why didn’t you like it?”

“It kind of felt like it was unfair, you know? Like I wasn’t allowed to have my own feelings. Kind of like being in a contest only to find out it’s rigged. I felt like my head was getting invaded.”

Connor shifted next to him, feeling guilty, and resting his chin on his hand at the arm of the couch. Kevin cast him a glance, but tried to keep his focus on Gotswana.

“Did it make you angry?”

It would have felt like the words were being put into his mouth, but they were accurate. They were the words of a man who knew Kevin, who had spent six months treating him for anxiety and rage, who had seen him at his lowest points and knew exactly what kind of person he was.

“Yes,” Kevin admitted. Then he rushed to amend it. “But I’m not angry anymore. I’m trying to be better about that, be nicer to Connor and Arnold. I didn’t like being angry all the time, so I decided to try to change that.”

“And how did you change it?” Gotswana asked.

They had spent months on that very couch, that very chair, trying to change things, trying to make the anger go away, but they had never succeeded. Kevin had fought it every step of the way, pushed back against Gotswana right up until he had cancelled his sessions for good. What had changed, he wondered, what was so different now than then?

“Connor helped,” Kevin said, looking over at Connor, wishing that guilt would go away. It was undeserved and he felt bad for prompting it with his admissions. “It helped to know why it was happening. Once I knew why, I could rationalize it. I could make it stop by-“ He had to stop himself there, realizing how similar his words were becoming to Connor’s problems with emotional control, and tried to find words that better suited it. “I understood the problem, so I was able to work through it. Getting to know Connor, getting to understand why he was angry, it made it easier to not be angry about.”

“Are you angry, Connor?” Gotswana asked, transferring his gaze to their silent companion.

“No,” Connor said quietly. Then he sighed and raised himself up off his hand, sitting up straight and running his hands over his knees, an action Kevin recognized by now as a nervous habit. Curious he could have a nervous habit without actually having nerves. “I mean, I guess I am. Or… was. It’s all really confusing. Kevin knows what I’m feeling more than I do. It’s hard to explain how things make me feel when I don’t even know myself.”

“We’re going to work on that together,” Gotswana promised him, giving a reassuring smile. “Learning to differentiate your emotions will be a long and difficult process, but it isn’t impossible.”

Hope.

“I don’t do it on purpose,” Connor said. “It’s not voluntary at this point. How am I meant to figure out how I’m feeling if my own brain won’t let me?”

“Believe it or not, you’re not the only person who has sat on my couch with that problem,” Gotswana told him kindly. “And that’s all it is: a problem. Problems have solutions and we will find one together. Okay?”

Connor nodded uncertainly. “Okay.”

“Kevin,” Gotswana said, returning his attention to Kevin, “how do you feel about our plans to help Connor?”

“I feel good,” Kevin said truthfully, smiling at Connor, wanting him to know it was the truth, that he wanted to help, that he wanted Connor to be happy. “I really hope it works. Nobody deserves to feel empty like that all the time. I don’t really want him to feel angry or scared either, but I want him to know when he’s feeling happy.”

“Anger and fear are just as natural as happiness,” Gotswana told them. “If you want to be able to feel joy you have to be ready to feel scared and sad and angry and everything else too. You can’t pick and choose.”

“I know,” Connor said. A knot started to form in Kevin’s stomach and Connor’s brow creased, eyes staring down at the carpet. “Does that mean I’ll… Does that mean the panic attacks will start again?”

He looked up at Gotswana, the vulnerability clear in his features and Kevin’s throat constricted a little. “Did you have them before?” Gotswana asked.

“Yes,” Connor said. “A lot. It’s part of the reason it got so out of hand.”

“It’s possible,” Gotswana said with a nod, but he sounded very non-committal. “If Kevin’s panic attacks are still a direct result of you, then it’s very likely.”

“Wait, what do you mean still?” Kevin interjected, the wording doing something foul to his heart.

Gotswana raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “You’ve been having panic attacks for, what, ten years or so now? We have to be prepared for the possibility that they aren’t going to stop. Experiencing anxiety on the scale that you have for so much of your life, it’s not unlikely that you haven’t… become accustomed to that way of thinking.”

Kevin looked between the pair, his brow furrowing, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. “I’m still going to have anxiety?”

He hadn’t really though about it. At the very least it hadn’t been at the forefront of his mind, the possibility that losing Connor’s feelings in his head would do anything regarding his anxiety. He just hoped it would make the fire go away, provide some comfort at long last. But now that he was hearing that it might not do anything at all for him, it was suddenly a very tangible and immediate reality.

He smoothed his features over and laughed. “But the panic attacks do still come from Connor,” he reasoned. “The last one I had, back in New York, it was because of him. And they’re not happening so often these days, so…”

The look Gotswana was giving him made him trail off, and he suddenly felt extremely uncertain. “I never really thought about it,” he said quietly. “It didn’t occur to me that the anxiety might stop, but now that I know it won’t…”

“Your brain has been trained to behave in a certain way,” Gotswana explained. “It has learned how to be anxious and it is possible it will hold on to that once Connor has begun to heal. But it is also possible that your mind remembers how to not be anxious as well,” he assured him. “We will find out along the way.”

Kevin looked down at his hands, trying not to let his fear show.

“Whether or not the anxiety goes away, you still have the skills and the resources to manage it,” Gotswana said and Kevin couldn’t bring himself to look at him, worried that if he did he might lose resolve. There was worry and fear and sadness and so many other things pressing painfully against his ribs and he hated that he couldn’t tell if it was his own or not, couldn’t tell where he began and where Connor ended.

“I never…” he began, a slight waver in his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I never really thought it was a possibility, not being anxious. I never realized that might be something I could hope for.”

“And now?”

There was something burning in his throat and he was painfully aware of Connor sitting next to him, afraid to look at him. “I don’t know,” he said honestly, trying to laugh. “I’m… scared I’ll be stuck with it forever. And I don’t blame Connor,” he quickly clarified. “I don’t, I really… It’s nobody’s fault, but it’s… it’s hard not to be angry about it. It’s hard not to feel… cheated.”

“Cheated how?”

Kevin shrugged, his arms crossing over his knees and tried to push away the pressure building behind his eyes. “I guess I never really got to see what life was like without it. There were so many things I didn’t do because I was worried I would have a panic attack or because I was too anxious to do them and it’s like… what could have been, you know?” He rubbed at his eye with the heel of his hand, begging himself not to cry, hating how emotional he was getting over this. “What would life have been like if I’d never had anxiety? What would life have been like if-“ if Connor had never given this to him. If Connor had never rejected his own feelings. If Connor had let him have a life. “If things had just kept going the way they were supposed to.”

“What do you think life would have been like?” Gotswana asked gently.

Kevin shrugged and tried to laugh again, but it came out weak and trembling. “When I was a kid, like ten or eleven, I wanted to be a surgeon when I grew up, but I gave up on that as I got older because I couldn’t stop worrying that my hands would shake and I would kill somebody.” He took a shuddering breath, trying so hard not to let this break him, so hard not to get stupidly emotional about it, something that really hadn’t mattered to him in years. He had no right to be upset by this, but at the same time did he really feel upset by this? Was Connor making him feel upset? Rather, was he making Connor feel upset and it was backfiring on him? It was all far too confusing. “I guess I’m a little upset that I never got to find out who I was going to be. I had a life, you know? And everyone always told me how amazing I was, how special and smart and good and then it all just… fell to shit. I never got to be the person they all said I would be.”

“Kevin, you are allowed to be upset about this. You don’t have to pretend to be okay with it all. You have every right to be upset.”

“But I don’t know if I am,” Kevin exclaimed, looking up at Gotswana desperately. His eyes were burning with unshed tears, his throat constricting, his chest tight, his head warm. Everything was trembling and he hated it, with every fibre of his being he hated what this was doing to him. “I don’t know if I’m sad or not. I don’t know if this is me. I don’t know if this has ever been me. Have I ever really had a real emotion in my life? Have I ever actually felt anything that was mine?” He knew he was spiraling, but he was powerless against it as it pulled him down, down, down into the depths of his distress, the worries that had been plaguing him since the moment he had found out the truth. Frustration intensified it all, making it loud and crass, amplifying his sadness and anger a thousand times over. “How am I supposed to know who I am or who I would have been? I never got that chance. No one ever gave me that chance.”

“Kevin,” Gotswana said, gazing at him meaningfully, looking concerned because they always looked concerned when he lost control, they always got concerned, but none of it ever helped. “You’re allowed to grieve for someone you’ve lost.”

For a single breathless moment all Kevin could do was stare at him, eyes filling, and that was it. That permission was all it took and suddenly Kevin couldn’t contain it anymore. His face crumpled and he bowed his head and he cried, long and hard, head resting in his arms, and hands digging into his own shoulders and neck. Years of desperation and fear coming out in a single, teary moment, and he felt like a wretched creature, making a scene, taking up both of their time with his problems so soon into their session. But at the same time it was exactly what he needed. His whole body wracked with sobs and he grieved for himself. He mourned for the loss of who he once was and for who he never got the chance to be. The man he had been promised as a child and who no longer existed. “I’m sorry,” he would sputter periodically. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” And Gotswana would tell him that it was okay.

Connor sat silently at his side. Kevin couldn’t tell what he was feeling, a glance only showing a blank face watching him break down without a hint as to how he might feel. And it made him feel alone. More than ever, he felt alone and scared, and as his tears sucked all the life out of him, he tried not to reach out to him, to calm himself on that dullness. The green light that had ruined his life, that had been his life, the green light that had taken so much from him.

He wanted Arnold there instead. But without Arnold, with no one there to calm him like that, he only wept and felt and wished things had been different. He wished that for once in his life he could be just like everybody else. He grieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm... not a therapist so idk. I've been waiting for ages to give Kevin that moment, you don't even know. So anyways, thanks for reading.
> 
> (Did I write that whole first scene just for the Turn It Off vest? Yes.)
> 
> -G


	18. Kevin Price Takes the Bus

It was growing cool by the time they stepped outside, the early evening light stark and white. Kevin pulled on the jacket he had been carrying and Connor dug his hands deep in his pockets and neither of them said a word.

The session had only been an hour, but it had felt like longer, the procedure Gotswana had put them through being a difficult task following Kevin’s emotional outburst and lacking any encouraging results. He had told them it would take time, that they would need many sessions to make significant headway, but it was hard not to feel discouraged.

“Do you think it’ll work?” Kevin asked at some point during their long walk to the bus terminal.

“I don’t know,” Connor had replied quietly, and Kevin couldn’t tell who was feeling what, so it was hard to know what was going on in his head.

Kevin’s chest felt odd, bubbling low with something disquieting and ominous, threatening to come to a boil, and he couldn’t identify it, but perhaps that was for the best. It made him uncomfortable, but nothing more.

When the bus arrived and they stepped on, along with a handful of other weary travellers, they went as far back as they could and sat silently, anticipating a long and quiet ride home. That was the trouble with going to Gotswana. He may have been familiar, and he may have known Kevin’s mental state better than anyone, but it was hard to agree that such a trip was worth it, especially when the results were so dissatisfying. Going into Salt Lake City every week just for this one hour long appointment was already promising to be a chore.

“Close your eyes,” Gotswana had said.

Connor had moved from the couch to the chair, his hands resting on the armrests, his back rigid, feet planted. Kevin had watched from the couch in fascination and exhaustion. The crying had left him drained, but he wanted to be present and be supportive, and Connor had wanted him there, and Gotswana had told him he needed to stay.

“Relax your body,” Gotswana had said. “Breathe.”

Connor let his shoulders loosen and he sucked in a breath, exhaling through his mouth. The room was dark, the lights turned off and the blinds drawn, with only the dim glow of light escaping around the edges of the blinds and a single lamp so that Gotswana could see what he was writing.

“Take a moment to feel your body.”

The landscape around the bus slowly changed, shifting from buildings and billboards into trees and plant life before the bus joined the freeway and suddenly they were bordered by cars and guardrails, the flora distant.

Kevin leaned his head against the window, uncertain about what to do or what to say. He wanted to reassure Connor, a good soulmate would have, but he was at a loss. There didn’t feel like there was any more that he hadn’t already said, and yet he felt like all that he had said fell woefully short of adequate. The uneasiness in his chest continued to bubble and tumble, but otherwise he felt calm. Tired. Ready to be home again.

He wanted to see Arnold and to tell him what had happened. He always did when emotions got the better of him as Arnold was the best possible thing to calm him down. But for now, he would have to try to let the hum of the bus and the distant green landscape distract him from the feelings and thoughts and worries. Maybe he could take a nap.

“You’re wrong, you know,” Connor said, his voice soft, but startling.

Kevin turned to find him looking at him with tired eyes, leaning deeply into his seat.

“Wrong about what?” Kevin asked, matching his tone.

“About who you are. About who you’re going to be.”

Kevin didn’t quite understand and furrowed his brow as he tried to work through the words in his head. “What do you mean?”

Connor slid his eyes to the window and looked moments from sleep. “Back there, when we were talking about what we wanted to achieve, you said you felt like you were never going to get the chance to find out who you were going to be. If none of this had ever happened.”

“And you think I will?”

“Mm, no,” Connor said, hands folded neatly in his lap, the armrest claimed by Kevin. The white evening light was soft on his face, making him seem paler than usual and bringing out the soft freckles that dotted his nose. Blue eyes were icy even as their lids hooded them. Connor really did have lovely eyes, eyelashes darker than his hair suggested they should be. “I’m not sure if you’ll ever find out who you were going to be,” he said. “But I do think you’ll find something close.”

Kevin smiled gently, still a bit confused, but also a little amused by the sweetness in Connor’s features and the drowsiness that was overtaking him. Even if they hadn’t achieved much in their session, it had been a tiring experience for both of them.

“Feel your breath in every part of your body,” Gotswana had said, his usually animated voice soothing and calm. “Breathe your full breath into every inch of your body. Utilize your breath to connect your mind to your body.”

“And what does that mean?” Kevin asked Connor, leaning his head against the backrest of his seat to match his companion’s angle.

“I mean you’re not the same as you were,” Connor replied with a shrug. “You’re not as angry or scared or…” He shook his head, trying to find the right word. “Or controlled. You’ve changed.”

“I feel like you’re always telling me I’m changing.”

“Because you are.” Connor’s eyes briefly met Kevin’s and for a moment the uneasiness in his breast was replaced by a quiet flutter of excitement. But it was short and vanished quickly back into the bubbling. “Everyone changes. It’s, like, a natural part of life. No one stays the same person for their entire lives. All I know is that the Kevin Price I met would never have run across the campus dressed up in a pink vest and cheetah print cape.”

“It was red, only the lining was cheetah print,” Kevin corrected him and Connor chuckled.

“Of course, my apologies. I didn’t mean to upset your sensibilities.”

“My sensibilities accept your apology.”

Connor smiled, his eyes flickering across trees outside the window and something like guilt seeped into Kevin’s stomach. But Connor continued to smile as he said, “I’m sorry. I know you say it’s not my fault and you don’t blame me anymore, but it is my fault. Even if I didn’t know what I was doing to you, I was still doing it.”

“But if you’re right, then it’s okay. We’ll sort it out and you’ll heal and I’ll figure out who I’m supposed to be. Everything will be okay.”

Connor’s smile faltered before he gave up on it and his face took on a look of quiet sadness. “But you can never get those years back. Everything that our connection did, what I did, it took all those years away from you.”

“The connection also gave me you, so it can’t be all bad, can it?”

Something tensed in Kevin’s chest and his throat constricted a little and he rolled his eyes. “Hey, I already cried once today, cut that out.”

A tentative smile worked its way onto Connor’s face and he looked at Kevin, properly and for a long while, and Kevin smiled back. Connor lifted his hand to take Kevin’s, but he paused, fingers hovering over Kevin’s hand where it rested on the armrest, and he frowned a little, feeling disappointed and a little frustrated. Then he moved his hand to land on Kevin’s wrist over his sleeve instead.

“Sometimes I wish we could-“ But he cut himself off. Then he smiled and looked down and felt embarrassed.

“What?”

“It sounds kind of stupid, but…” He laughed. “Sometimes I wish I could hold your hand without the bond.” His thumb ran over the fabric of Kevin’s sleeve, and Kevin could feel the movement in a removed sort of way. “I feel like it gets in the way sometimes.”

Kevin watched the thumb move, considering the wish and somehow he wanted it too. The contact without everything that came with it. Simple and meaningful. He put his free hand over Connor’s wrist, above his sleeve, and gave it a squeeze. “Me too,” he said quietly.

“Feel your body, your limbs, your chest, your neck, your legs, feel where they are relaxed and where they are tense,” Gotswana had said.

Connor swallowed, his eyes moving behind shut lids.

“Locate where in your body you are tense. Notice the simple emotions. Feel it without judgment. It is okay. You are allowed to feel. You are allowed to notice these things.”

Something started to well up in Kevin’s stomach. Something akin to disgust or distress. It made his stomach woozy and he swallowed hard, trying not to disrupt the focus in the room. The feeling began to spread, travelling across his back, climbing up his spine, gripping the back of his neck, the wooziness shoved fingers up his esophagus, and he kept swallowing, trying to make it go away.

“Whatever you notice, it isn’t bad or good, it simply is,” Gotswana said. “Not right or wrong, just a fact.”

Kevin ducked his head, closing his eyes, fighting a wave of nausea in the darkened office and listening to Gotswana’s instructions and Connor’s gentle breathing.

“If you can, say out loud what you feel.”

“Nothing,” Connor said, a whisper. “I don’t feel anything.”

Kevin turned his gaze back to the window, looking out at the trees awash with fading sunlight. A wind blew at them, making the leaves seemingly sparkle as the undersides reflected white against the shadowy depths of the branches. His hand slowly moved against Connor’s wrist as Connor continued to brush his thumb against Kevin’s sleeve, and he felt himself wishing that there wasn’t any fabric between them. That they could touch skin to skin without worrying about what might pass between them.

Connor’s head landed on his shoulder and they shifted closer in their seats, trying to get comfortable for the long ride home. Kevin’s phone went off in his pocket and he ignored it entirely.

~

“The prodigal son returns!” Grant announced as he entered the shop on Friday afternoon.

Kevin, who was with a customer, could only spare a withering glare before returning his attention to a peace lily and a jade plant the customer was trying to decide between, but Logan was more than free to respond. “Are you talking about Kevin or do you have something going on the rest of us don’t know about?”

“You know, I’m surprised he came back to us,” Grant said as he reached the counter, leaning back on it to watch Kevin attempt to explain sunlight requirements. “You’d think with all that fame he’d get bored of little old us. Or at the very least he’d be making some money off the whole thing.”

“Oh, he’s probably fabulously wealthy already,” Logan agreed, deliberately loud enough for Kevin to hear. “It’s probably just so boring, all the parties and TV spots and photo-shoots, he needs to switch it up a bit, pretend to be just like the rest of us. You know, for variety.”

Grant wagged a finger as the customers thanked Kevin and he led them over to the counter. “You know, I think you’re right,” he said and Logan cast him a smirk even as he moved over to the register to ring up the jade. Kevin slowed to a halt in front of him and Grant grinned. “Too much champagne and caviar isn’t good for the soul. I’m surprised you can keep the girls off you, Price, I thought stardom was supposed to make you irresistible.”

“I’m doing just fine, Grant,” Kevin told him. “Nothing’s changed, I just have a lot more doctors appointments these days.”

“Not to mention the media frenzy,” Logan agreed as he waved goodbye to the customers, muttering quietly to each other while clutching their brand new plant. “Perfectly normal, nothing out of the ordinary there.”

“Perfectly standard, average, run-of-the-mill customer service employee,” Grant said and Kevin gave him a weary look.

“Go put your apron on, Grant,” Kevin said. “I wanna go for lunch.”

“Oh, an order from the lord himself!” Grant exclaimed, eyes growing comically wide. “I am compelled to obey!” He whirled around and disappeared into the break room.

“He’s an ass,” Kevin muttered to himself.

“Yeah,” Logan said, “and you left me alone with him, so who’s the real monster here?”

“You’re an ass too.”

“I’m not gonna argue with America’s sweetheart,” Logan said, diverting his gaze to the empty shop.

Kevin didn’t bother to argue with him. He had seen the entertainment news pieces and social media posts about “the hot Utah boy with a second soulmate,” he didn’t need to be reminded.

He had thought that being back at work would help normalize everything, make him feel like life was at least a little stable, but there had been more than one customer that day who had recognized him and asked him far too personal questions. The very first appearance he had made on television had been at the shop front, after all, and while the popularity it had caused had worn off by then, there were still people who would come by just to peer into the windows to see if he would be there.

A spectacle on display.

That was the worst part. He could handle interviews, being treated like a person, taking part in a conversation, but being gawked at like an animal in the zoo was just too demeaning. He wasn’t just a piece of meat with a green glow, and every time someone so much as glanced at him in the street he could only wonder how innocent the glance was. Not that he really noticed the glances much, not these days, but in the opening havoc of his public appearance he had certainly felt distressingly self-conscious.

The moment Grant reappeared, Kevin took off, tossing his apron into the break room and making a beeline for the coffee shop. He ignored the people who stared at him, waved hello to the trio of old women sitting in their usual seats, and reached the counter, glad to see a familiar face.

“Chris,” Kevin said with a smile.

“Hey Kevin,” Chris replied. “Whadya want?”

“What, no small talk today?”

Chris shrugged. “I see you, like, every day, you know what’s going on in my life. Now come on, what’ll yah have?”

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

“Uh, BLT. …Please.”

“Sure thing.” He turned around and yelled to the kitchen as loudly as he could, startling both Kevin and a majority of the customers around him, “Hey, James!”

The young man standing next to him whipped around and yelled out, just as loudly, “What?!”

Chris turned to him and started. “Oh, didn’t see you there. Food order.”

“Yeah, I know,” James seethed before stomping over to the sandwich station.

Chris grinned at Kevin apologetically and shrugged. “It’s been a little stressful around here lately.”

“I know that feeling,” Kevin said watching James warily. “My coworkers haven’t shut up all morning about my ‘Hollywood status,’ and it’s getting to be a real pain in the ass.”

“Man, everyone here is just stressed out about exams and stuff. And with that media presence at the school, no one can get a moments peace.”

“There’s not that many of them,” Kevin said nervously. He had gotten pretty good at ignoring the cameras, didn’t even notice the mutters of classmates as he passed them by in the lecture hall anymore. But then, he had been distracted of late, what with exams, interviews, doctors appointments, his schedule was packed and getting fuller. All of his priorities had been shifting.

“You ready for it? End of the year?”

“I guess so,” Kevin replied, looking down at his fingers as they tapped against the counter. “I mean, I haven’t really had much time to even think about it, let alone…”

Chris gave him a strange look. “You doing okay?” he asked. “Feels like it’s all a bit much sometimes, I can’t even imagine what it’s like in the eye of the storm.”

“You know, technically, the eye of the storm is the calmest part.”

“Yeah, but this is a metaphor, Kevin, it’s meant metaphorically.”

“Actually, I think it’s technically an analogy.”

“And, technically, you’re avoiding the question.”

Kevin smirked up at him. “It’s been weird,” he said at last. “I’m getting used to it. Believe me when I say I can adapt to anything.”

“Your whole life is pretty weird,” Chris muttered. Then a look of shock crossed his face and he said, “Oh, shit, I forgot to charge you for the sandwich.”

He punched it into the register and Kevin sighed. “And here I was thinking that was just one of the perks of fame.”

James placed the wrapped sandwich on the counter with a look of distaste as Kevin handed the card-reader back to Chris. He had just put his wallet back in his pocket and picked up the sandwich, ready to go, when Chris stopped him with a, “Kevin, just a second.”

Kevin turned back to him, confused, hungry. “Yeah?”

Chris glanced up at Kevin a few times before letting his gaze rest squarely on the counter between them, fingers twitching against the laminate. “Be careful with Connor, okay?” he said, voice soft. Kevin frowned. “See you around.” Before Kevin could reply, Chris was calling over the next customer and Kevin was pushed out, left standing in the shop with his sandwich in hand, utterly baffled.

What was that supposed to mean? What was he meant to be careful about? Had he not been careful up to that point? Was there something he didn’t know about?

Spurred on by his limited free time, Kevin walked back out to the street and took his usual seat on the concrete planter, unwrapping his sandwich, and looking down at it as his thoughts consumed his hunger.

He was still wondering about it when he reached Florgettaboutit twenty minutes later and it had become an irritating echo in his mind by the time his appointment at the hospital rolled around later that day.

When he met Connor, only the two of them that day at the hospital, he thought he caught a glimpse of a green shirt beneath his jacket and sweater and it did something strange to his heart. Connor’s heart was doing strange things that day too, whether he knew it or not, and Kevin spent a good deal of their time in the waiting room wondering why they were so nervous just to be sitting there. Wondering what Chris had meant. Wondering why his palms were so damn sweaty. He tried not to look at Connor too much because that was somehow making it worse, and instead bounced his leg and picked at his nails.

“Are we okay?” Connor asked quietly at some point and it would have been a very odd question had Kevin not known exactly what he was asking.

“Yeah,” Kevin replied. “Just a weird day.”

And Connor nodded and put a hand on Kevin’s hunched back and it sent a ripple through Kevin’s skin and made the nerves worse, but also… excited him. And he wanted to believe it was Connor who was feeling these things, but he was incapable of pinpointing who was who and he wasn’t certain the nerves being Connor’s would make it any better than the nerves being his. His heart was beating hard in his chest and he tried not to let the gentle circles Connor was rubbing in his back make the excitement overwhelm him.

By the time a nurse came to retrieve them, Kevin was near vibrating in his seat. Probably a feedback loop of some kind, he reasoned, the worry of another overload pressing lightly at the back of his thoughts. But all that excitement and worry dissipated when they entered Dr. Smith’s office.

Since their first round of tests at the hospital, they had never set foot in that room of machines again. In fact, in their few visits, they never seemed to go to the same place twice. Their previous visit had entailed more tests in a different area of the hospital, the one before that had them meeting with Dr. Smith in her personal office, the only room that seemed to necessitate a repeat visit. It was their first time back without harbouring any ill will towards one another.

Today, she was sat behind her desk, a notepad and their files open in front of her, looking just as clinical and falsely welcoming as always. She acknowledged them as they took their seats and barely took the time for small talk before launching into her scientific intrigues. She wanted to know how they had been feeling as themselves, how they had been feeling as each other, what sorts of new and odd things had popped up on their trip to New York, what the panic attack had felt like from both of their perspectives.

Kevin, being Kevin, had taken notes during their trip in a small notebook kept in his suitcase, and Connor gave a fond roll of the eyes when he produced it from his bag. He read her everything he thought might be of use, attempting to push past the embarrassment and self-consciousness at some of the more personal details. Obviously, there were certain aspects of it that he left out – what their conversations had been about that effectively erased the volatility, the nighttime sobbing, what the dreams had been about – but they didn’t seem important as Smith leaned forward eagerly in her seat, jotting down notes and asking questions.

“You can see his dreams?” she asked at Kevin’s mention of it.

Kevin looked up from the notebook a little surprised. “Sometimes,” he said. “When we’re near each other. I can always feel what the dreams make him feel, but I can’t really see them most of the time.”

“Is this phenomenon mutual?” she asked, turning her eyes to Connor who turned his eyes to Kevin in turn.

“Not that we’re aware of,” Kevin replied, gaze locked on Connor. “I figured it was part of the whole one-way empathy thing.”

“Is it unusual?” asked Connor, who could have had no way of knowing that it was incredibly out of the ordinary.

“It’s a little out of the ordinary,” Smith told him, a vast understatement as was clear just by the way her eyes were wide and her hands twitching in fascination. “I’d like to run some tests to understand the functioning of it, a sleep study. We’ll observe the brain activity while you sleep to get a deeper understanding of how the information is being relayed and processed.”

“Just one thing after the other, huh?” Connor said with a weak laugh and Kevin once again felt nervous, but of an entirely different breed.

“Have you discussed these dreams with Dr. Gotswana?”

“No, it didn’t really come up,” Kevin answered, though his focus was still on Connor and his nervous habit. Hands running up and down his legs. Up and down. Up and down. The fabric there was worn.

“Would you be able to tell me what these dreams are about?”

“No!” Connor yelped, much too quickly. Then he looked sheepish and said again, calmer, “No, I… I’m not really comfortable with that.”

“That’s fine,” Smith reassured him. “It’s not entirely necessary for the process of the study, but it would be helpful in order to ensure these really are shared dreams.”

“Is it really so strange?” Kevin asked. There always seemed to be something new and he didn’t like the thought of being observed while he slept. He didn’t like the idea of Connor’s privacy being invaded by anyone who wasn’t attached at the soul. He wondered if that was selfless or selfish.

“As far as I’m aware, it’s unheard of,” Smith told him candidly and Kevin just wished, for once, they could be normal in at least one aspect of their lives.

“Is the sleep study necessary?” he tried again, wanting to get the hint across that he really didn’t want to go through with it. Poking and prodding at their emotions and souls were one thing, but the subconscious was unpredictable and he worried what might get dredged up by their dreams. He had to be careful. Chris had told him to be careful.

“I don’t mind, Kevin,” Connor told him, like he had read his thoughts. His face was brimming with honesty and quiet acceptance even as Kevin’s heart thudded. But looking at Connor, his blue eyes, his pale skin dotted with freckles, his perfect hair, a face he had come to trust, he felt his heart slow some. Something like want started to well up in the back of his mind, a dull ache, but it was cut off when Connor turned to Smith and said, “Would it only be one night?”

“I would like to run the study multiple times, if possible, but if you or Kevin are uncomfortable with that, we can reduce it to one,” she told him, very poorly hiding her disappointment.

Connor shrugged and returned his gaze to Kevin who had not let his eyes wander an inch. “I could do one night.”

“Yeah, I guess one night is fine,” Kevin agreed, wishing their emotions would just pick one thing and stick with it because he was starting to have a difficult time focusing. But every time Connor made eye contact, his focus returned, zeroed in on blue and calm. Blue was good. Connor’s eyes were…

“I don’t expect to set the appointment until a few weeks from now,” Smith interrupted his thoughts as her words tore Connor’s gaze back away from Kevin. “But we’ll be in contact to set a date that works for your schedule.”

Kevin had trouble focusing for the rest of the appointment, passing off his notebook to Connor with an apology before he let himself fall into his own head. Most of the time, he let himself watch Connor as he read out the rest of the notes, slipping from one emotion to the next without much information to go on as to why he was feeling them. The want didn’t come back, though he waited for it to. Connor’s eyes didn’t come back, though he wanted them to.

He wanted to take Connor’s hand.

He didn’t want the dulling effect he knew it would have on him, he just wanted that contact. He wanted the fingers wrapped up in his own. He wanted to brush his hand through Connor’s hair to see if it felt as soft as it looked or if it was stiff from product. He wanted to sit closer to Connor. He wanted press his arm against Connor’s, that basic solid contact, to feel his warmth and presence. He wanted all these things, but that dull ache of a want that he had felt so briefly was not among them.

And it puzzled Kevin. He couldn’t come close to understanding all these desires beyond the basic need to be close to a soulmate. He supposed he had gotten used to all that contact from Arnold, contact he had been missing of late.

But still. It was strange.

“Are you okay?” Connor asked him once they had left the office. “You didn’t really talk much back there.” Kevin hadn’t taken in most of the conversation that had happened during the latter half, but he assumed Connor would take care of all of it, or at the very least fill him in.

The distractedness in his mind hadn’t gone entirely, but he managed to collect himself enough to reply, “Yeah, it was just a lot of… emotions for some reason. It was all a bit distracting.”

“Sorry,” Connor said.

Before he could continue with further apology, Kevin shook his head and said, “It’s fine, really. I just wasn’t expecting it. I don’t know why it happened.”

“Should we go back and tell Dr. Smith about it?”

“No,” Kevin said, uncertain for both of them and concerned for one. “It was probably just a feedback loop or something. I’m fine now, mostly fine, I think I just need a bit of air.”

Connor didn’t reply until they had made their way through the wards and out the front door. He looked down at his feet as they walked across the walkway to the bus stop and Kevin didn’t realize he was staring again until Connor’s eyes lifted and he was once again met with blue. “What was I feeling?” Connor asked quietly.

Kevin paused, looking away because it was the only way he was going to be able to think at all on that particular day, and he made sure Connor couldn’t see his face when he furrowed his brow. “Hard to say,” he said. “I think I was feeling a lot too.” And he put his hands in his pockets to keep them from wandering where his desires were telling them to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back on my bullshit.
> 
> \- G


	19. Kevin Price Goes for a Walk

The fear Kevin felt when he woke up that night was palpable. It sat in his gut like a coiled snake nipping at his insides, spreading poison through his veins, trying to escape up his throat. Sitting up, breathing hard, he tried to keep from shaking, the cold sweat dripping down his back prompting him to shuck off his shirt and wipe at his brow. Arnold arrived as usual, looking half-asleep, but a reassuring presence nonetheless. He had only just climbed into the bed when Kevin’s phone went off.

‘Want to go for a walk?’

Kevin stared at the words as his heart slowly calmed and Arnold peered up at him, too sleepy to sit up entirely. “What’s up?” he asked in a rough voice.

“I’m going out for a bit,” Kevin replied distantly, his head fog dissipating as the sweat on his back sat clammy against his skin. After a moment of sitting in the dark, waking up, he turned to look at Arnold who was still squinting up at him curiously. “I’m going for a walk,” he said. “I’ll be back in a while.”

At that time of night the park was empty. Clouds blotted out the moon and only gave hints of stars here and there, leaving only the streetlights that dotted the walkways to provide some amber sight. Sitting on the bench, his jacket huddled about him against the chill, Kevin wasn’t able to wonder if this was a mistake.

He couldn’t bring himself to question if saying “no thank you” and going back to sleep would have been the better option, it simply didn’t occur to him. It didn’t occur to him to be worried about strangers wandering the park, to worry about muggers or feral cats, to worry he hadn’t worn enough layers. Instead, all he could think about was Connor.

There was the familiar prickle of anxiety at the back of his neck, but aside from that, Kevin couldn’t pick out anything distinct. How bad must it have been to drag both of them from their beds at this time of night? How horrifying to make them seek each other out? Kevin didn’t think he would be so okay with this if Connor didn’t want to see him so badly, but then, he wasn’t really sure how all of that worked on an emotional level.

He wondered if he should be doing research on this. Emotional psychology was a complex and fascinating field of research and would likely be far more helpful than the highly under-scrutinized field of soul bond science. If it could be called a science. If there was one thing Kevin was good at it was research. Connor might even have been able to help him find books on the topic at the library. He decided to ask when he saw him. The more Kevin understood the topic, the more he could help.

His heart fluttered gently and he felt a warmth spread through his chest, and when he looked up he found the source walking towards him down the dusky path. The shadowy figure raised a hand and Kevin smiled back feeling instantly more at ease. Comfort with Connor was different from comfort with Arnold in a way Kevin couldn’t quite describe. It was like relief. It was like familiarity that extended beyond their relationship. It was a calm and peaceful and desperately needed feeling that made him almost forget that just two weeks ago Connor had hated him.

“A little late for a walk,” Kevin said as Connor took a seat next to him. Even in the dim light of the nearby lamp, he could see the exhaustion in Connor’s eyes.

“I didn’t want to hang around at home,” Connor told him. “It was too lonely back there.”

“Chris?”

“He went home for the weekend. I probably wouldn’t have woken him up anyways, I don’t like interrupting his sleep like that.”

Crickets and grasshoppers built a cushion of sound around them, filling the dark beyond their little pool of light with the universal sound of night. “You should tell him about your dreams,” Kevin said. “Not even what they’re about, but just that you have them. He can help you more than you think.”

Connor shook his head and looked down at his hands. “I don’t want to worry him any more than I already do,” he said.

“It’s what he’s there for.”

“Not it’s not,” Connor said, a small smile playing at his mouth. “I’ve already put him through so much. I’ve wrecked our bond, I’ve worried him to death; I can’t tell him I’ve been keeping this secret from him for so long. He would never trust me again.”

Kevin knew better, had personal experience to back it up, but kept it to himself, not wanting to start an argument that he knew Connor would refuse to let him win. Instead he said, “Tell me about your dream?”

Connor glanced at him and took a breath, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than they were during the daytime even as his cheeks glowed. “You were there,” he began, picking at his nails. “We were… It was in some kind of lab, I think. We were hooked up to all kinds of machines. There were people in lab coats taking notes, poking at us, doing all kinds of stuff to us. They didn’t even treat us like people. We were just an experiment to them. Just something to play with.”

“Sounds frightening.”

“It was more eerie,” Connor admitted. “Like the montages in those shitty sci-fi movies Arnold likes to watch.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that,” Kevin said and they both laughed cautiously. He waited for a moment for Connor to continue, but when he didn’t Kevin nodded. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot too. About all the tests and stuff. It’s… a lot.”

Connor laughed. “Yeah, it’s a little overwhelming.”

“You know, I said I didn’t want to be a lab rat. Right at the beginning, I said that.”

“I know you did.”

“And now I’m taking part in a sleep study to see what parts of my brain light up when you dream.” He sighed as Connor nodded next to him. “At least we get to sleep through this one.”

“Yeah, but we still have to sit through them explaining it to us.”

Kevin laughed and looked over at Connor who was still looking tired, but had perked up since arriving. His hair was still perfect. His clothes were perfect. His face was drawn. “You wanna go for that walk?” Kevin asked.

Connor smiled at him and nodded. “Yeah.”

It was a little less frightening to be out at that time of night with someone walking next to him. Even if they didn’t speak very much, Connor’s presence was soothing and nice. Whenever Kevin looked at him he was always quietly amazed at how different he was when they were alone. In the presence of others, be it doctors, friends, soulmates, he was always more boisterous, seeming to need the performance he put on for them as much as he needed sleep or air. But with just Kevin, he was withdrawn and gentle. Hardly the same person and yet always carrying with him that innate Connor-ness that was impossible to describe.

He felt the slight urge to take Connor’s hand, or even put an arm around him as he looked a little cold, but barricaded by the thought that it might be odd or that their bond might mess things up again he kept his hands to himself, shoved deep in his pockets and picking at lint.

“What’s your real favourite movie?” Connor asked as they entered a patch of trees. The leaves obscured the lights above them and cast jagged shadows that moved ominously at their feet. If this were a horror movie, Kevin thought, this would be where the killer lay in wait.

“ET.”

“No, I mean your real favourite movie.”

Kevin quirked an eyebrow at him and Connor returned the gaze with a challenging smirk. “I’ve told you my favourite movie.”

“Kevin, I’ve seen your room. I refuse to believe that anyone with that amount of Disney stuff isn’t head over heels for a princess movie.”

“When have you ever seen my room?” Kevin asked, unable to feel invaded, only curious. He kind of liked the idea of Connor in his room. He liked the thought of him being curious enough about Kevin to go looking.

“I’ve been in your apartment often enough, I’m not just going to not look in there.”

“Seems like an invasion of privacy.”

“Seems like you’re avoiding the question.”

Kevin mulled it over, chewing at his lip and casting glances to Connor who was quickly growing amused.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad.”

Kevin sighed and shrugged. “Okay, you got me. But it’s not a princess movie, I want to make that perfectly clear.”

“Masculinity is so fragile these days…”

“I’m just making myself clear,” Kevin laughed.

“What’s your favourite movie?” Connor insisted, grinning.

It was getting harder and harder these days to tell if those smiles were fake and Kevin had to look up at the rustling branches to avoid the possibility of staring. He wasn’t going to go through a repeat of that doctor appointment. “Peter Pan,” he finally admitted, and couldn’t help but look back down at Connor to check his reaction.

For his part, Connor seemed entirely unsurprised, simply looking back away from Kevin and down the path they followed. “Peter Pan,” he muttered thoughtfully. “I can see that. You’ve got that kind of vibe to you.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You know, I can’t remember the last time I watched Peter Pan.”

“Gosh, me neither,” Kevin breathed. It felt like it had been years since he had done anything just for pleasure. Even before the soulmate ordeal, Arnold had chosen what they watched, and church and school had decided his schedule and what he read. Work and essays and studying had filled his spare time and Kevin seemed to have gotten lost in all of that. Who had he even been before now? Because he certainly felt like somebody. Even if he didn’t know who that was yet, he was someone when he hadn’t been anyone before. “I got a 68 on my Confucianism midterm,” he admitted.

Connor looked up at him, not exactly shocked, but certainly a little confused. “Like 68%? What happened to Mr. Valedictorian?”

Kevin shrugged. “He’s gone I guess. Couldn’t take the heat.” He hadn’t told anybody about that grade. He hadn’t told anybody about any of his grades, which had all fallen woefully below excellent. It was a combination of not wanting anyone to fuss and not feeling like it was important for people to know. When he had read the grade earlier that week it somehow just didn’t matter.

“Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“That was a pretty big goal for you, though. I knew that about you before I knew anything else.” Connor was growing to be genuinely concerned and while it flattered Kevin, he also didn’t really want to get into it at such a late hour.

“I guess I’ve gotten enough recognition in my life now,” he said with a shrug. “Valedictorian doesn’t seem so impressive as it used to.”

“Do you want to sit down somewhere? Are you feeling light-headed?”

Kevin laughed and bumped Connor with his shoulder. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you. I’m just moving on with my life like you keep telling me to. I’ve got new priorities and a helluva lot more on my plate than I did before.”

“Look at you living in the moment,” Connor said, impressed, as he bumped Kevin back. “And hardly any fuss at all.”

“I’m adapting.”

“You certainly are.”

The path brought them to a fork and they headed down the left side, taking them away from the trees and closer to the pond. It was still too early in the year for mosquitos to be swarming above the tranquil waters, but Kevin kept an eye and an ear out for them anyways. He wasn’t about to get eaten alive for the sake of a midnight stroll.

The intermittent stars reflected off the water, but mostly they were obscured by the reeds and amber streetlights setting it aglow. A bridge, small and made of stonework, hardly worth the title of bridge, rose over it to the opposite bank where the flowerbeds were kept, and Connor instantly hurried over to it the moment it was in view with Kevin trailing behind him. Looking over the water they were two dark blotches in the gently undulating waters, barely visible against the sky.

Connor leaned over the short wall of the bridge and said, “If we were really living in the moment, we would jump into the water and have a midnight swim.”

“And catch hypothermia,” Kevin agreed as he came up next to him. “Good thing we’re cowards.”

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to goad me into doing it or not, but I swear if you push me I’m throwing you in first.”

“If I push you, you won’t have time to push me in first.”

Connor nodded and smiled down at the water and repeated, “Good thing we’re cowards.”

Kevin sat back against the low wall and looked out over the other end of the pond. The opposite embankment rose up through reeds and weeds onto a short grassy slope before disappearing into a sparse woods that he knew hid the back ends of several shops. A gentle wind rustled the plant life around them and raised hell on his hair. It sent the acrid stench of the depths of an over-polluted under-preserved pond straight to his nose.

“It kind of stinks here,” he muttered.

Something hit his chest and his body rang out with shock as he very nearly toppled over the edge into the water, but he flailed enough to keep himself balanced. Besides that, Connor’s hand hadn’t hit him nearly hard enough to actually send him over, only the surprise would have done it, and was still wrapped up in his shirtfront just in case. Kevin turned wide eyes to Connor who was grinning devilishly up at him, barely suppressing a laugh.

“Oh you’re gonna regret that,” Kevin laughed before he wrapped himself around Connor and tried to lift him up.

Connor struggled in his grip even as he laughed and cried out, “No, Kevin, stop!” and Kevin never would have actually gone through with it, but it was tempting just to see the look on Connor’s face. He settled for the thrill it was setting in his chest however and the pure joy radiating from Connor’s expression and laughter as he wrestled helplessly in Kevin’s arms and Kevin wasn’t strong enough to pick him up anyways, but he certainly tried.

After a moment of fumbling they settled down, laughing in each others arms and the manic joy barely fading from Kevin’s head as he said, “Do you know how amazing it feels when you’re happy?”

“What do you mean?” Connor asked, still giggling.

Wrapped up in each other like that it was easier to see his face, even through the shadow Kevin cast on him, and his eyes were downright sparkling. Kevin’s heart felt like it was melting just looking at him and he couldn’t bring himself to let go. A familiar ache was approaching his mind. “When you’re happy- when we’re both happy at the same time,” Kevin replied, smile wide on his cheeks, feeling like he was glowing. “It’s the most overwhelming and incredible feeling. Like back at the costume shop, that joy, it was- God, it was fantastic. I never thought I could be so happy.”

“It must feel nice,” Connor said quietly, and though he was still smiling there was a sting in Kevin’s chest that hadn’t been there before.

“You’re so happy, Connor,” Kevin said. “I can’t wait for you to feel it.”

In their wrestling, Connor’s perfect hair hadn’t even budged and that didn’t seem fair. So without thinking about it, Kevin reached up and pulled a lock loose, positioning it carefully over Connor’s forehead. Artificially disheveled. Connor looked up at it, cross-eyed before glaring at Kevin through a smile. But Kevin couldn’t ignore that flutter in his chest, the same one he had felt when Connor had arrived that night, one he had felt before, and it troubled him just as much as it didn’t.

Want.

“Could you stay with me tonight?” Connor asked, his hands playing distantly at the back of Kevin’s jacket. “We could watch a movie or play video games or make food or whatever, I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Kevin’s smile faltered. But he wanted to be with Connor just as much, so he said, “Okay,” and didn’t forget to take note of how that response had tugged at his heart.

Soulmates needed to be together. They were predestined to be together and all that garbage, everything the Church had told Kevin all his life, and without Chris at home it was no surprise that Connor would be looking for someone to fill that absence. That’s what Kevin told himself. It was the same need and destiny that had drawn them to each other in the first place, the same ones that brought them together in the shop and in the library and in the drama building. That incessant pull that had made them want to be near each other and that same pull that was acting now.

But there was something about it that was different, Kevin thought, something new and odd. Even when they had hated each other, that pull had existed, drawing them together even as they wished it didn’t, but now… Kevin had the notion that even if they weren’t soulmates they would be feeling something similarly magnetic. He tried not to think about it.

It was three in the morning when they arrived back at Connor’s apartment, the room awash in the glow of a moon that had finally come out of hiding. Being there without the panic of an overload and without the group of people who had fussed and argued throughout the ordeal of his last visit was like being in another place entirely. But there sat the lily, bold as brass, more alive than ever. Gazing out the window at the moon.

They snuck into Connor’s room like his roommates were strict parents not to be disturbed, and decided they would watch Peter Pan because they both agreed it had been far too long. Sitting up in his bed, Connor only lasted until the first appearance of Hook before he fell asleep against Kevin’s shoulder and Kevin didn’t last much longer than that.

In the way of dreams it was difficult to tell who was who. There were two bodies and it drifted from first to third person seamlessly and back without a hint it had ever been the other. There were two bodies. One was Kevin, the other was someone, but the Kevin was not Kevin, it was the other Kevin, it was that different strange Kevin. That other Kevin was a body and the other was them.

There were two bodies.

When they kissed it was ethereal, a ghost kissing a ghost, but the mouths moved together and Kevin could feel other Kevin’s tongue even as he watched, even as he kissed, even as he was detached entirely. He floated to the side and he was in his arms and he was kissing but he wasn’t kissing and it was the only thing there was.

There were two bodies.

They moved together, one on top of the other, melding together, finding rhythm in the waves of nothing that surrounded them, bright endless nothing that obscured and laid bare. There was heat and movement and gasping and God it felt good. Skin on skin, a head tilted back, a neck devoured, arms around each other as they consumed one another, as they gasped and groaned. Faces contorted in ecstasy. Nails biting into flesh. Bones moving under muscle.

Two bodies.

Two bodies moving as one. Two bodies pressed close. Two bodies fu

Kevin woke up with a start. His heart was racing, but he didn’t feel scared at first, only disoriented and confused. This wasn’t his room. This wasn’t his bed. The body wrapped up in his… For a brief moment he forgot that it had only been a dream and scrambled back, shocked with himself for his lack of self-control, but the feeling faded as he remembered the night before. The laptop was still down at their feet, sleeping, and Connor was sleeping too, seemingly undisturbed by Kevin’s movements, and Kevin had a brief moment to think to himself, ‘What was that?’

He was still wondering that as the body next to him stretched and let out a soft groan, eyes blinking slowly open. When they landed on Kevin, who looked undeniable confused, they shot open and Connor sat up sharply.

“Kevin,” he said, voice hoarse. “That wasn’t- I mean I didn’t- I don’t- It’s not-“ He stumbled through the words, unable to find the right ones in the sleep haze in his head, but he took a breath and asked, “Did you…?” Then he shook his head and laughed and felt violently nervous. “Of course you did, how could you not? God, I’m so sorry, Kevin, that’s not normal. That is to say, I don’t always-“

“What?” Kevin managed to get out. Connor fell silent and there was a dangerous tension as they both waited for Kevin to speak. “I didn’t…” He stared at Connor stupidly for a moment. “I didn’t see anything, Connor.” It was a blatant lie, and not a very good one, but it was all he could bring himself to do.

Connor stared back at him hard, examining his face for signs of deceit. “You didn’t?” he asked.

Kevin shook his head, uncertain if this was the right choice to be making, but too shocked and sleepy to be willing to take the other route. “No I… Why, did you dream?”

They stared at each other for a long moment and Kevin knew somehow that Connor knew he was lying, but perhaps it was for the sake of his own embarrassment that Connor muttered, “No. No, I didn’t.” Then he slipped out of bed, mentioning the bathroom, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Kevin let himself fall face-first into the mattress. He groaned. It was far too early to be dealing with any brand of revelation, let alone that one, so as his brain threw questions and alarms at him, he retaliated by gently patting the back of his head like he could knock the thoughts loose and send them flying out his ears.

He really wasn’t all that distressed by the fact that Connor was dreaming those things, if he was being honest, but the act of living it out with him, seeing his other self behaving that way towards the being he had lived through, was immensely disorienting and confusing. And regardless of who it was, those types of images and thoughts, even years after his distancing from the Church, were rather foreign to him. It was fading from his memory the more he woke up, but the feelings it had evoked hung around like stale air and the sounds still rung in his ears.

Even though he knew there was nothing wrong with it, it still felt almost dirty to have possession of those thoughts, even sinful. And with a mutter of, “Ah shit,” he remembered he was missing church again. Of course lying was a sin too, but wasn’t it preferable to completely embarrassing someone? At what point did a sin become not a sin if it was for the right intentions? Was a sin a sin if it was committed to prevent a different sin? Really none of it made any sense to Kevin the more he thought about it and he wondered how he had ever made it through 19 years of church without asking these questions.

At what point was a sin not a sin?

But then, Kevin didn’t believe in sin anymore. He believed in sin as a concept of morality, but as a function of faith it just didn’t seem realistic. Good or bad. Right or wrong. Was anything so straightforward? There were a lot of grey areas when it came to morality and especially when it came to life. Was it a grey area when he pressed his hand between his legs, willing his anatomy to stop reacting to the sounds and images playing in his head?

There was a message on his phone from Arnold asking where he was and, unsure of how to reply, he ignored it. Was that right or was that wrong? Or was that a grey area too?

The thought of Connor coming back and the two of them being alone in the confines of his room was starting to make his skin prickle with worry, so Kevin got up and made his way out to the living room. The prickle took his sock-clad feet across the creaky wooden floor to the window. It was bright out, the sun glinting off of car windshields and glaring at him from the windows of the house across the street. It was well past the time he would normally get up any day of the week, but he didn’t feel the slightest bit refreshed by it.

“Kevin?”

The voice, not Connor’s but someone else familiar, made Kevin turn around and he found himself face to face with Wade who was looking partway between confused and bemused. “Hey Wade,” Kevin said, feeling like he had been caught. But caught doing what? Looking out a window? Focus, Kevin.

“What are you doing here?” Wade asked, breaking eye contact to pad over to the table where he set down a bowl of cereal and sat heavily in a chair much like the one Kevin had sat in once. He was only wearing a t-shirt and boxers, a robe hanging open around his shoulders, and Kevin tried not to look anywhere that might be misconstrued.

“We were hanging out last night,” Connor replied as he rounded the corner into the room and Kevin was relieved that he wouldn’t have to try to explain himself. “We lost track of time.”

But as Connor sat down at the table as well, his hair seen to, his clothes, the same as he had worn the day before, straightened out, Kevin felt entirely out of place in this home. Had it just been him and Connor it would have been awkward, but he could have handled it. But with Wade, and possibly their third roommate, going about his daily routine it was like Kevin was an alien in their home and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

So he stood near the window, watching as Connor pretended nothing was wrong and as Wade stared up at him, speaking through bites of cheerios. “You want some breakfast?” he asked. “We’ve got waffles in the freezer. Eggs too. Not in the freezer. In the fridge.”

“No, thanks,” Kevin said, “I should probably get going, I didn’t mean to stay so late. I’m missing church, actually, and Arnold is probably wondering where I am by now, so…”

“You go to church?” Wade asked, casting a glance to Connor who had pulled out his phone, scrolling through some chatroom or other. “I thought you were an atheist.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Connor says you don’t believe in God.”

How much had Connor told his roommates about Kevin, he wondered. How much did anyone know about Kevin? He tried to remember if any news publication or television spot had ever made mention of his religion and was coming up short. “I mean, I’m not really sure if I do. I wouldn’t say I’m atheist.”

“Agnostic, then?”

“Mormon,” Kevin replied, trying to find somewhere to put his hands. He was awfully exposed just standing there, but he hadn’t been invited to sit and he didn’t want to make assumptions under the circumstances. “I, uh, I was raised Mormon and sort of got into the habit of going.”

“Oh, so it’s like a ‘just in case’ kind of deal?” Wade nodded and pushed his spoon around his bowl, trying to corral the last of his cheerios into a single spoonful. “I get that. I was raised Catholic and it felt really weird first time I decided not to go to church on a Sunday. You get used to it, though, it’s like the whole day opens up.”

“Yeah…”

“Do you wanna sit down or something?” he asked at last and Kevin almost sighed with relief before he remembered himself and looked anxiously to Connor. Not necessarily to get his approval, but more to make sure he wasn’t vehemently against it. “Sit down,” Wade invited him, gesturing to the seat across from him.

Gingerly, Kevin took the chair, casting glances to Connor whose eyes were still glued to his phone. The tension between them was far too high for two people who had allegedly not had a sex dream about each other. And that was it. That was when it clicked into place why Kevin was so nervous. Because Connor was nervous and he was too, they were both nervous, and he really needed to get used to thinking that way. It was hard for someone who had spent most of his life being nervous alone to wrap his head around being nervous with someone, but now that he had realized it, it felt a little more manageable.

He wondered if there was a way to make Connor not nervous.

“Are you hungry, Connor?” he asked.

“A little,” Connor replied. Then he turned his attention to Wade and asked, “Where’s Drew?”

“Probably still asleep,” Wade answered before he picked up his bowl and took a long drink. When he set it down, empty, he wiped a hand across his mouth and shrugged. “He’s been trying to beat that stupid campaign lately, probably stayed up until, like, five in the morning going at it.”

Kevin had still never met Drew and was beginning to think he might never. He was also beginning to think that Connor was doing his very best to avoid any chance of confronting his nerves and discomfort. Old habits die hard. And for Kevin it was getting very old.

He shouldn’t have been upset by it, knew that Connor couldn’t help it, but with how close they were getting and with the revelation playing on repeat in his head, his old reproach was starting to seep back in.

He pushed back from the table, shaking it off. He was supposed to be supportive and kind. He needed Connor to know it was okay, that the dream was okay, that Kevin was okay with it. “You want some waffles?” he asked him.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

No change. Time needed to pass, the morning was moving so slowly. In the kitchen, leaning over the counter, waiting for the waffles to pop up in the toaster, Kevin wished he had just left. Being farther away from Connor, maybe he would be able to ignore the feelings better or they would be more distant in his breast. If he had been in church he would have been able to ignore them without a doubt, but sitting around, eating waffles, pretending that tension wasn’t there, it wasn’t going to help anything.

When he placed the plate of waffles in front of Connor and Connor looked up at him, smiling and saying thank you it almost made things worse. The embarrassment and shame and nervousness. Kevin didn’t want any of it. He was fine with it, he was completely okay with it. None of what Connor was feeling was meshing at all with what Kevin was feeling and it was enough to make him woozy.

Worst of all was the images from the dream still wouldn’t leave him alone. They were like a broken record in his mind, pulling at him, teasing him, drawing his eyes to Connor, wondering what it would have looked like from that other Kevin’s perspective. And, really, thank the lord he was wearing jeans.

He tried to distract himself with his waffles.

Partway through the silent meal, Kevin and Connor hadn’t even looked at each other again and Kevin was beginning to think that Wade was about to ask them what was wrong. He had clearly picked up on something. But to Kevin’s great relief there came the sound of the front door opening and Chris calling up the stairs, “Hello!”

Connor couldn’t keep that relief from his features as he called back, “Hey, Chris!”

“I smell waffles,” Chris sang out as he trotted to the top of the stairs, bag in hand. But the grin he was wearing fell for a moment when he spotted Kevin. He recovered, though not very well, and looked back to Connor. “Hey, Kevin, what’re you doing here?”

And Connor replied before Kevin had the chance, though the question had been more directed at Connor anyways. “We were just hanging out last night and lost track of time,” Connor lied and Chris nodded slowly like he didn’t believe him, but wasn’t sure what the alternative might be. And the nerves and worry came to a crescendo in Kevin’s chest along with a shot of farm-fresh guilt and it really was too much for so early in the day.

Kevin grabbed Connor’s sleeve and tried to school his features as he said quietly, “Connor, can I talk to you for a second?” And he didn’t wait for a response before getting up and going back to Connor’s room.

He hadn’t really looked at Connor’s room before. It had been dark the night before and he had been more distracted when they had woken up, but now, looking around, Kevin was amazed by the state of it. Even if the bed had been made, it would have been a mess, clothes on the floor, dust on most surfaces, a stash of packaged snacks peaking out from a cupboard at the base of the bookcase. A stark contrast to its inhabitant.

That inhabitant appeared a moment later, closing the door behind him and looking confused. “What’s wrong, Kevin?”

“You need to tell Chris the truth,” Kevin said instantly, all his energy directed towards this task in less than a seconds notice.

Connor was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“Tell him about your dreams,” Kevin instructed. He wasn’t going to take a ‘no’ this time. He wasn’t going to let himself because this was too important. Connor needed to confront something and if it wasn’t going to be his feelings then it would have to be this. At the very least it would open up Chris to being a real connection. It wouldn’t fix their bond, but it would help.

“Kevin, you know I can’t do that.”

“And why not?” Kevin asked, but when Connor opened his mouth to respond Kevin raised his hands to silence him and grimaced. “I know, I know. Trust and secrecy and all that bullshit. You don’t know how guilty it makes you.”

“What-“

“You don’t know what lying to him feels like.” Kevin considered sitting down, it would make him look less aggressive, but he was getting a little worked up and he would rather stand. He would rather pace, if given the option, but keeping still seemed like a better idea. This wasn’t his room, this wasn’t his house, this wasn’t his guilt, he would stand. “I know it seems intimidating to do, I know it’s scary, but telling him the truth is the best thing to do,” Kevin said, trying to sound reasonable. He knew he was being reasonable, he just needed to sound like it too. “I think… maybe I’m being selfish in asking you to do this,” Kevin admitted, “but you need to know that telling Chris about your problems can actually help.”

“I really don’t know if I can, Kevin,” Connor said quietly.

“You have to try,” Kevin replied. He tried to remember the things Gotswana had said to him to make him tell Arnold about the General incident, but none of it was coming to mind. “If you want him to trust you, then you have to stop lying. Give him a reason to trust you.”

“But he already trusts me.”

A new burst of guilt and Kevin licked his lips and tried to suppress it as well as he could. “He trusts you under false pretenses. You’re taking advantage of that trust.”

Did he sound like his anxiety? Was that what he was doing? Playing anxiety’s advocate? Now there was a turn of events. “You’ve got to make that trust real.”

Connor looked back at the door, clearly wishing he hadn’t followed Kevin into his room. “Why today?” he asked. “Why now? Why can’t it wait?”

“Because if you let it wait just this one time then you’re just going to keep letting it wait,” Kevin explained, exasperated. “You keep telling yourself he doesn’t need to know, but he can tell there’s something wrong. He can tell you’re lying, he just doesn’t know what about.”

“You think so?”

Kevin really did try not to believe that it was willful stupidity that made Connor ask that, but anyone with eyes could see the distrust on Chris’s expression the moment the lie had left Connor’s mouth. He tried not to feel frustrated, but it was hard.

“Did you see his face?” Kevin asked, stepping closer to Connor. “Did you see the way he looked at me- at us, when you lied to him.”

“I guess…”

“He needs to know.”

It would have been easier if any of their bonds functioned like they were meant to. If Connor and Chris could feel each other, if Connor could feel himself, but since Kevin was getting all of it, he was forced to try to explain it all without letting it get the better of him. And that wasn’t much fair either. It was impossible to appear unbiased and without appearing unbiased how was he meant to appear rational?

“If I tell him…” Connor said slowly, looking up at Kevin distrustfully. Kevin knew he must have been looking near frantic, but willed his eyes to shut so they wouldn’t be so wide, took a breath. “… then you have to call your dad.”

Kevin’s eyes snapped open. “What?”

“If I have to stop avoiding this then you have to stop avoiding that. It’s only fair.”

It was difficult to come up with an argument to that and Kevin was left sputtering. “It’s not really the same,” he tried.

“Isn’t it? It’s just avoiding the inevitable. Just heading something off before it gets out of control.” Connor studied Kevin’s face as the latter searched the air for a rebuttal, losing just a bit more control every moment. After a moment he closed the gap between them, taking Kevin’s arms in his hands, standing close enough that Kevin could feel his warmth. “Breathe.” He put a hand on Kevin’s neck and the green light flattened his nerves and guilt and excitement and in the clarity he could feel concern. “One of us deserves to have a family, Kevin,” Connor said gently and Kevin’s eyes dropped, ashamed at how selfish he had let himself get. Confused as to whether or not he had been selfish. Uncertain if this was a grey area. But Connor’s hand on his chin raised his gaze and that dull ache of want almost pressed him forward. “Don’t let them fall away just because you’re scared.”

Kevin didn’t feel scared. He felt…

His hands came up to hold Connor’s waist, a distant memory of a night where they stood much like this in a bedroom in a different part of town drawing his eyes down to Connor’s lips.

But now wasn’t the time.

“If I call my dad,” Kevin said, his voice hushed, “then you’ll tell Chris about your dreams?”

Connor swallowed and nodded and laid his hand flat against Kevin’s cheek. “If you’ll help me, I’ll tell him.”

“Of course I’ll help you.”

Connor laughed lightly and looked down, taking a breath. “You know what I dreamt about last night, don’t you?”

Kevin grinned at the blush forming on both their cheeks. “Well, you don’t have to go into that much detail with him.”

And Connor laughed and nodded and said, “I’m not even going to go into that much detail with you.” Then he patted Kevin’s cheek and stepped back, straightening out his sweater and clearing his throat. “You’re sure this is the right thing to do?” he asked.

Kevin nodded. “Certain.”

“Okay.” Connor took another breath and then opened his door. Leaning out, he called out, “Hey, Chris? Can I talk to you for a second?” Then he turned a nervous look to Kevin who tried his best to look reassuring and push down Connor’s nerves.

He really did try.


	20. Kevin Price

Focus, Kevin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Breathe.


	21. Kevin Price Does Not Have a Panic Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for panic attacks, depression, vomiting, alcohol abuse, and... whatever the hell this is

Connor helped Kevin to the bed, helped him sit, helped him breathe. “We’re going to do this, okay?” he said, climbing up into the mattress. He knelt down and tried to peer up into Kevin’s face, but Kevin was having trouble getting his lungs to cooperate and he was pouring all of his focus into that. “We can do this, Kevin, I promise.” He leapt off the bed again and over to the window where he shut the blinds, casting darkness across the room, but a moment later the amber glow of a lamp lit up the bedspread. The bed shifted and Connor was in front of him again, pressing Kevin’s phone into his hands. “We can do this, but I need you with me, Kevin,” he said. His hand landed on Kevin’s jaw, raising his head and forcing him to look him in the eye. He looked desperate.

“I need you to tell me what to do,” Connor said.

Energy was sending twitches across Kevin’s skin, but the green light throwing odd shadows across Connor’s face was strangely absorbing. Focus, Kevin Price. He nodded.

Waves of something nasty ebbed and flowed through his muscles and his guts twisted and his vision swam, and he knew the shaking in his hands was only the start to something worse.

Connor smiled and ran his hand across Kevin’s cheek and then through his hair. The contact was nice, grounded him, and he leaned into it. “I need you to find instructions,” Connor said, continuing to gently pet Kevin’s hair. “I need you to find out what to do.

“Gotswana,” Kevin muttered, half suggestion, half concern.

Connor shook his head. “He wouldn’t let us,” he said. “We’ve got to do this on our own. It can’t wait.”

Kevin nodded, drawing on Connor’s certainty, gathering himself, turning his attention to research, something he could always do. It didn’t take long to find something close enough to the exercise. There was a rock in his throat, but as he focused on reading through it his lungs went from stuttering to trembling and by the time he had finished, verified it was right, his vision had gained some clarity. He nodded and said, “Okay,” and Connor straightened his back like a man about to perform a ritual.

Connor closed his eyes.

“Breath deeply,” Kevin said, keeping his wavering voice as soft as possible. With the bright light of his phone shining directly into his face, he heard more than saw Connor take in a deep breath. “Let your breath expand to every part of your body.”

Connor’s eyes were twitching behind their lids already, but his face remained smooth. Kevin screwed his own eyes shut for a moment, pressing back against the panic.

“As you do this you may notice places in your body where you were holding physical tension,” Kevin read. “Soften your shoulders. Let your tongue disconnect from the roof of your mouth. Relax your legs fully.” He really should have been sitting at the end of the bed, Kevin thought, so that his legs could hang down. But they had started now and he didn’t want to interrupt just in case it worked. If it worked, oh God, what would happen if it worked? “Breathe your full breath into every inch of your body, and begin to notice what starts bubbling up for you, without judging whatever you find.”

Just as it had the first time, discomfort began to prickle in Kevin’s stomach, forcing out the feelings that were already there. Manic energy gave way to something low and venomous. It was almost like dread.

“At this point in time, you may start to notice certain areas that are more tense than others, or specific emotions that you may be able to name simply by feeling them.” The dread began to build. “Whatever you notice, it isn’t right or wrong, bad or good. It simply is.” Slowly, it started to climb up his stomach, absorbing things as it went. The guilt, the anger, the sadness, the fear, it all fused and blended with the dread, becoming something else, something new. It was making him feel a little queasy, but at least he could keep his hands still now. “If you are able to, name your findings out loud in order to validate your findings outside of your mind.”

Connor’s brow furrowed lightly. “I feel…” he began, sounding uncertain and at a loss. “I feel a bit nervous? I guess?” He said them like they were questions, but Kevin could feel the nerves, solid and real, being consumed by the dangerous mass in his chest. Frustration flicked up like a flame before it was doused.

Kevin swallowed. None of it went away.

“I don’t really know if what I’m feeling is… a particular feeling,” Connor continued. He was trying, Kevin knew, without actually having anything substantial to name. It was all in Kevin, roiling and expanding and trying to get out, but he suppressed it as well as he could. He didn’t yet feel like he might throw up, but he knew that was where it was heading.

Connor sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know, Kevin, I don’t think this is really doing anything.”

“Maybe we should just wait for Gotswana.”

Connor’s eyes opened and he said firmly, “No. We’re doing this. It has to be now.” He put a hand on Kevin’s knee and looked into his eyes meaningfully. “I promised you.”

Kevin didn’t want to wait either. His reaction to Chris and the dreams, that conversation, it had devastated him. The heat in his heart and head were driving him forward. He wanted this dread, this beast he was growing, to get out. He wanted it gone. His eyes were having trouble focusing, he could feel that oversensitivity that had consumed him during his overload, wanted nothing to do with it. He couldn’t do that again, couldn’t go through it, couldn’t put anyone else through it, again, and he only considered that for a moment before saying, “Let me try something.” His hands shot out, almost of their own accord, landing on either side of Connor’s head, filling the room with green light and dulling the feelings slightly.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Try again,” Kevin said, eyes boring holes in Connor’s features.

Connor’s brow furrowed again and he very nearly grimaced. “Tell me what to do?”

Kevin took a breath. It had grown a little ragged and his head was getting foggy. “Breathe deeply,” he began.

Connor obeyed.

“Soften your shoulders. Let your tongue disconnect from the roof of your mouth. Relax your legs fully.”

The feelings were beginning to grow again and Kevin shut his eyes against them, determined to pass them on to Connor. He would settle for anything at this point if he could just get the damn bond to work.

“Breathe your full breath into every inch of your body, and begin to notice what starts bubbling up for you, without judging whatever you find.” His voice wobbled and he could feel Connor’s concern and he hated it. It was the burning hatred of his previous self, the one who would fly off the handle at the slightest indiscretion, the one who yelled at Arnold and blamed Connor and wanted no one in the world to be happy unless he was. “At this point in time, you may start to notice certain areas that are more tense than others, or specific emotions that you may be able to name simply by feeling them.”

He tried. He tried to push those feelings across the bond, to get them from his hands into Connor’s head. But he didn’t know how. He had never been the one to give, only to obtain. But he had seen Arnold do it a million times, how hard could it be? How difficult could it be to transfer Connor’s feelings back where they belonged?

“Whatever you notice, it isn’t right or wrong, bad or good. It simply is.”

And that was all he was trying to do. He was only trying to get things back to the way they were meant to be. Back to a time before Connor had been taught he was wrong to feel, a time before Kevin had taken on feeling afraid and angry and anxious for him. A time when he was himself and Connor was himself and they weren’t necessarily better off than they were now, but they were who they were meant to be.

“If you are able to, name your findings out loud in order to validate your findings outside of your mind.”

The mass in his chest was consuming him, setting his skin alight, constricting his voice, scrambling his brain. He wanted it to stop. He needed it gone. But Connor wasn’t accepting it. Kevin couldn’t move it. It was stuck. It was growing. It was painful and nasty and horrible and not his. It wasn’t his.

“I feel…” Connor began.

Then it was like a key that had found its pins. Suddenly something clicked. Ignited. Connor and Kevin both gasped and the monster growing inside Kevin surged and he heard Connor gag and his eyes shot open to find Connor staring at him, wide-eyed, mouth open, green light pouring out of their skin like their bones were on fire, and everything was charging through them.

Kevin hadn’t expected it to be like this. Like his guts were getting ripped out.

He felt everything.

Every moment was a new sensation, a feeling he hadn’t been able to see past the noise, and he hardly had time to recognize them before they shot out of him and into Connor. He felt angry and afraid. He felt jealousy and worry. He felt love, he felt devotion, he felt hatred, he felt overwhelming desire. And as soon as they were there, they were gone.

Tears began to well in Connor’s eyes, pupils huge, and neither of them could move, the change was so intense. Kevin didn’t know how long. It felt like eternity. He wasn’t certain if either of them was breathing until Connor began to scream.

It didn’t build, just burst out of him like a long and terrifying cannon shot, mouth stretched impossibly wide as the tears streaked down his cheeks. And Kevin couldn’t do a thing. It was all too much. Electricity melted his skin and tightened all of his muscles. His chest and stomach were vomiting up every emotion he had ever felt. And all he could do was sit there and stare into those terrified eyes and listen to Connor scream.

In the end, it wasn’t either of them who made it stop.

Hands grabbed Kevin’s shoulders and pulled him back. He tumbled off the bed, landing hard against the floor. A voice was crying out, against the screams, “What have you done to him?” and Kevin couldn’t begin to explain.

He lay on the floor feeling empty and tired and listened as Chris tried to sooth Connor, who’s screams had devolved into hysterical babbling. He stared at the edge of the bedspread where it hung an inch off the floor and tried to understand what it was he had done.

Hands grabbed him once more, lifting him to his feet and shoving him across the dark room and out the door. Chris shut the door behind them, but Connor’s muffled voice was still audible and that, along with the general absence of anything in Kevin’s head and chest, was making it difficult to pay attention to what was being said to him.

After a moment, Chris shoved Kevin, hard against his chest, and Kevin’s attention was finally brought back from whatever void it had fallen into, and his eyes landed on a furious face. “Get the fuck out of my house!” Chris was yelling. “You piece of fucking toxic waste, get out!”

Kevin couldn’t feel what Connor was feeling. But he knew those sounds. He recognized them. They drew him towards the door, but Chris slapped his hand away from the knob. “He’s having a panic attack,” Kevin muttered absently.

“I don’t care, I don’t want you in there with him!” Chris cried out.

“I can help him.”

“You’ve never helped anyone in your entire goddam life. You did this to him, you piece of shit, whatever… this is.” There was poison in the words, but somehow Kevin couldn’t feel offended by them. Couldn’t feel guilty or upset. Couldn’t feel anything. He looked down at Chris. His cheeks were red, his features contorted in rage, and Kevin felt empty. “I knew you were trouble from the fucking second Connor mentioned you. I knew you were going to destroy everything. You’re toxic, you’re fucking radioactive!”

“I can help him,” Kevin repeated, no force in his words. They simply fell out of his mouth when it opened. “He doesn’t know how to deal with panic attacks, I can help him.”

“You’re not doing anything, not to him.”

The door opened and Connor shot out, moving too fast to see his face. He bolted down the hall and soon they could hear his footsteps stumbling down the steps. As Chris called out, “Connor!” and ran after him, Kevin stood in his spot, facing the open door, the room of his misdeed, and listened to the front door open and shut.

After a moment, he realized he should be going after them, and he managed to get his feet moving to the living room. Chris paused at the top of the stairs when he noticed him and pointed at Kevin accusatorily. “Get the fuck out of my house,” he said. Then he turned and left.

Kevin stood in the living room for a long moment, trying to process what had happened, but nothing in his mind was really gaining traction.

“I think you should go,” Wade’s voice said from behind him, tense and vaguely threatening.

And Kevin could only nod and obey.

He didn’t remember the trip home. Barely registered when he got there that it was empty. Arnold was still out. He went to his room and shut the door, then he sat on the floor in the corner.

He had often asked himself the question, “If Connor goes, what will be left?” The answer, it turned out, was nothing. There was nothing left of Kevin.

Or perhaps, more optimistically, he had given himself to Connor. If things were right, then he had a self, just didn’t have possession of it anymore. It didn’t do anything to him to think this. Didn’t make his heart beat any faster, didn’t press at his throat. It just sat in his head, a concept to be thought of, and took up space.

Vaguely, he remembered that he had promised Connor that he would call his dad.

Had he been in his right mind, he might have waited until later to make the call, but he didn’t even think of it as his hand traveled into his pocket to retrieve his phone. His fingers found the contact and hit Call.

It rang twice.

“Hello? Kevin?”

It had been so long since he had heard his father’s voice. It was high, like his, and familiar to his very soul. An old brick in the foundation of Kevin. He couldn’t respond as his father said again, “Hello? Hello?”

Kevin had been close to his father one upon a time. When he was young and his siblings were too young to bond with yet, it had just been Kevin and Jack and their dad. He had been there for them. Given them their first prayer books. Taught them their first hymns. Held their hands through their early church visits. He had given Kevin advice through his life, taught him how to exist, how to speak, how to walk. He had been there for 19 years.

And then everything had fallen apart.

Kevin knew it was his own fault. They had all made it perfectly clear that he had no one to blame but himself. But Kevin began to wonder if they had been right after all. He could remember asking someone, he couldn’t recall who, when it was right to let forgive, and the response had been, “when you no longer need your pain.” Blame was a symptom of anger. Blame was a festering wound. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t needed. That anger that he no longer had, the wound he had been working to heal, perhaps…

But his father. How much was he to blame? Why had he been avoiding his calls? Kevin couldn’t recall. Were either of them even capable of forgiveness?

Tears started to well up in Kevin’s eyes even before his chest grew tight. Even before he managed to say, “Dad?” Then they overcame him. His face crumpled and the grief that had been sucked out of him rose to the surface and consumed him, and he dropped his head and said, “I’m sorry,” before he started to cry.

He told his father everything. He told him about the lily Connor had bought from him, about his visit to the library, about the play and the party and the kiss that not even Arnold knew about. He told him about the anger and hate, about the fear and the revelations and the late-night comfort, and as it all poured out of him and his sobbing grew more violent, his father listened in silence.

Once he had finished choking out the events that had only just taken place, he let his head fall back against the wall and screwed his eyes shut against the tears. His whole body shook, but he managed to suppress the sobs, easier to control when he wasn’t trying to speak. On the phone was silence.

And then his father said, “Is that everything?”

“Yes,” Kevin sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. That’s everything. I haven’t- I haven’t even told Arnold, I haven’t- I’m sorry I didn’t call you, I’m sorry I never told you about-“

“Kevin, it’s fine,” his father’s voice said, calm and collected as always. He was never able to read what he was feeling by his words alone. “We can figure it out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop crying, son,” said Mr. Price. “There’s nothing you can do about it now. What’s done is done.”

Kevin nodded, but could only sniff in reply, pulling his knees tighter in to his chest. His head was aching and his eyes were bleary.

“I really screwed up, dad,” Kevin whimpered, voice trembling with his lip. “I’ve hurt him really bad this time, I can’t take it back. I can’t make it better.”

“Stop crying, for Pete sake,” his father muttered, sounding a little embarrassed by his son’s emotionality, and vaguely compassionate as well. “If you can’t take it back, then there’s no use crying about it.”

“What do I do?”

There was a sigh. “You are the son of our Heavenly Father, Kevin, whether you believe it or not. We all are. He puts us through our trials, and we have to keep moving on. We have to prove ourselves in the face of adversity.”

“I’ve seen a lot of adversity, haven’t I, Dad,” Kevin muttered, the sobs retreating to a shudder in his lungs and rivers down his cheeks. The world felt so small and he could feel nothing but pain, distant and deep.

“You have,” Mr. Price agreed.

“It’s not going to get better.”

“You’ll find your reward.”

“When?”

There was a long pause followed by another sigh, and then he said, “That’s not for us to know.”

Kevin’s chin trembled against a fresh wave of grief and he lowered his head onto his knees. “I missed Church this morning.”

There was a noise at the other end, faint voices, and then his father yelling away from the phone for his siblings to keep it down. When he returned he sounded less weary. More solid. “Come home, Kevin,” he said. “Stay with us for a while. We can set up a consultation with Gotswana to get you put back in proper therapy, none of that emotional soul crap. You can finish your semester next year.”

“No,” Kevin whispered.

“It’s for the best, Kevin. Come home. We can help you.”

“You’re not just going to lock me away again.”

“That’s not what I’m suggesting.”

“I can’t just leave him like this,” Kevin replied, finding some ground in the certainty of the statement. “I’m not going to run away from this.”

“I’m not suggesting you run away, Kevin. I just think it would be beneficial for you to be back with us where we can take care of you.”

Kevin clenched his jaw, stuck between wanting to agree, wanting to just give in and go home and be taken care of and have just another year written off to bad health, and wanting to follow through with this thing. He didn’t know how to follow through. Couldn’t begin to imagine how he could possibly help Connor, or even help himself, when they were in these states. When it was his fault. But he knew that if he went home then he wouldn’t find out.

“I’m staying here,” he said.

“Kevin-“

“No, I’m not going to come back yet. I can fix this, I know I can fix this.”

A short pause. “Then fix it, Kevin. But don’t run crying again when you find out you can’t.”

“I won’t,” Kevin breathed. “I promise. I won’t.”

His father hung up with the promise to call back when Kevin was more clear-headed and “prepared for a conversation about his recent activities.” He would have time to be frightened of that promise later. He would have all the time in the world to regret the things he had revealed to his father that day. For the time being he simply tossed his phone somewhere across the room and buried his head, trying to regain control.

He could fix it. He knew he could. The problem was Connor. The problem was knowing what to do.

Kevin was still sitting in the corner of his room an hour later when Arnold finally arrived home. He burst in through Kevin’s door and instantly wrapped himself around him, voice squeaky even as he tried to sooth, hand incapable of finding a place to rest for more than a moment. Nabulungi stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking concerned, but uncertain. She wasn’t meant to be a part of this ritual. This wasn’t her world and Kevin wished she would go away for a while.

He couldn’t bring himself to eat that night, no matter how much Arnold wafted food in front of him, loudly humming his appreciation. He couldn’t bring himself to do much of anything but sit there and wait for the feeling to return to him. Everything was dull. Everything was distant and quiet and he couldn’t get a hold of anything.

He crawled into bed at 7pm, not intending to sleep, just to find a place to rest that was more comfortable than the floor. Arnold took him in his arms instantly, but Kevin found that for once he could find no comfort in it. But comfort from what? He wasn’t feeling anything solid, let alone fear or panic or sadness. The crying had exhausted him, though, and he fell asleep soon enough.

A knock at the front door woke them up.

It was nearing 3 in the morning, but Kevin had yet to wake up that night in fear. It felt unusual to wake up in the dark with nothing but foggy confusion in his head.

“What was that?” Arnold slurred as Kevin pushed himself up to look at the bedroom door.

He was just about to get up to check or go back to sleep, he hadn’t made up his mind yet, when the door swung open and the lights were turned on. It was too bright to see who had intruded on Kevin’s sleep, but he recognized the voice instantly.

“Get up,” said Chris.

Kevin blinked at him as Arnold groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Chris?” Kevin asked. “What are you-?”

“Get up, let’s go,” Chris insisted.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“I’m well aware.” He strode forward and tore the sheets off the two bodies, leaving them cold and exposed. “Get up, get dressed, we’re going.”

“Going where?” Arnold asked.

But Chris didn’t answer, just opened the closet, pulled out a shirt and pants, and threw them at Kevin who caught them gracelessly with his face. “Get dressed,” he said again, then left the room.

“Where are we going?” Kevin asked again once they were all dressed and sitting in Chris’s car.

“We’re getting Connor,” Chris replied without turning to look at him.

Huddled together in the back seat, Kevin and Arnold were still shaking the sleep fog from their heads, trying to comprehend what was going on. Arnold’s hand was on Kevin’s wrist, filling the car with blue light, but Kevin couldn’t feel him very well. He couldn’t feel anything very well, just confusion and sleepiness and a growing list of questions in his head.

“How did you get into our apartment?” he asked.

“I used Connor’s key.”

“Where is Connor?” 

Chris hesitated before answering and when he did his voice held less ice. “At the bar.”

“Why is he at the bar?” Arnold asked.

“Both of you shut up,” Chris said sharply. His knuckles were white and his shoulders tense, but when Kevin caught a glimpse of his face in the rearview mirror his brow was furrowed in worry rather than anger. “We’re picking Connor up from the bar, that’s all that’s happening.”

“Why can’t you do that?” Kevin asked, though he very much wanted to see Connor. He wanted to know he was okay, that what had happened hadn’t damaged him too much, that he was still reachable and alive and fine. But the emptiness in his chest was beginning to resemble worry and he couldn’t very well ignore it.

“He’s not listening to me,” Chris answered, voice wavering slightly. “He wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know why!” Chris snapped, slamming his hands against the rim of the steering wheel, making Arnold jump. “Because of this… bullshit bond between you two. Because for some reason it’s more important than ours, I don’t know.”

Kevin sat quietly for a moment. He had never even considered how this would be for Chris. Chris, who’s only bond was broken. Who had to sit on the sidelines and watch his soulmate fall apart again and again and could do nothing about it. Who had to play nice as his soulmate was whisked away by some newer and better and more interesting bond. How lonely must that be? Kevin wondered. How frustrating and incomprehensible.

“Chris-“

“Just shut up, okay?” Chris insisted. “Just… be quiet until we get there… okay?”

“Sure.”

They didn’t say another word until they arrived at the bar, the same one they had visited the previous week, Kevin realized. The air in the car hung heavy with the unsaid tensions and all three of them eagerly leap out the moment they were able.

Chris didn’t stop to check they were following him before he was jogging to the door.

The bar was dead. At 3am on a Sunday night turned Monday morning, anyone with any belonging in life had long since gone home. A single figure sat hunched against the bar, a bottle in hand, and Chris was instantly next to him.

“Connor,” he said as Kevin and Arnold caught up to him. “Hey, you awake, buddy? Come on rise and shine.”

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” Connor slurred, slowly raising his head to prove he was present.

“Connor, Kevin is here,” Chris said softly, a hard contrast from the Chris who had driven them there. “You wanted to talk to him, right, buddy?” It was like he was talking to a child, not a grown man his own age. Kevin approached cautiously.

Connor turned to look at him and a drowsy smile spread across his face. “Kevin!” he exclaimed. His eyes wouldn’t open all the way and he carried the heavy scent of alcohol on every word he spoke. “I’m having a drink, d’you want anything?” Always perfect Connor looked like a ghost of himself. His hair was limp across his forehead and he had lost his sweater somewhere, the top buttons of his shirt undone and his collar askew. His eyes were glassy and his skin was glistening with sweat and he looked absolutely undone, and entirely happy about it.

“No, Connor, I-“

“Oh, right, right.” He shut his eyes and snapped his fingers. “You don’t drink. I’m sorry, I keep forgetting. I can get you, like, a water or a soda or a vodka or something, I’m sure that’s no- I’m sure it’s fine.”

Chris threw a hard look to the bartender – Anthony, Kevin realized – and Anthony shook his head and told them, “I cut him off ages ago, don’t worry. I’ve gotta close, though, guys, it’s past three.”

“We’ll get him out of here fast as we can,” Chris assured him.

“No,” Connor moaned. “It’s so early. I just want a few more, just, like, one more drink. Hey, Kevin, you want one?”

“Hey, Connor,” Kevin said, gently. He took an uncertain seat at the next barstool over and leaned in close, trying to catch Connor’s eye. “Why don’t we get out of here, huh? It’s getting pretty late.”

“No!” Connor spat, irritation flaring up in him. “I don’t want to- I’m not gonna go yet, I’m still drinking.”

“Connor, they have to close the bar.”

“That’s fine, that’s okay,” Connor slurred in earnest. “I can help. I can keep everything safe until they open again in the morning. It’ll be fun, like a sleepover.”

Kevin cast a glance up at Chris who was making a motion, urging him on, and Kevin cleared his throat, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “Connor,” he tried again. “Why don’t we go back to your place and watch a movie or something? We never finished Peter Pan, that could be fun, right? Like a real sleepover. We can make popcorn and stay up all night. It’ll be fun!”

Connor laughed and raised his bottle to his lips, disappointed when he discovered it was empty. “I don’t wanna watch a movie, Kev, I wanna stay out. It’s not fun at home. Everyone’s- Everyone’s mad at everyone an’ no one’s excited, y’know?” He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, “I sucked Anthony’s dick in the bathroom during his break.” Then he giggled and leaned back into a laugh as Kevin shot a horrified look to Anthony who looked far too guilty for the statement to be anything but true. Kevin made a mental note to kick his ass when this was all over. “Nobody- No one sucks any dick back home,” Connor said conversationally. “Not like, home-home, but… Gosh, d’you think Mormon’s suck people’s dicks? D’yah think it’s, like, against the rules or something? Hey, Kevin, you ever sucked a dick?” He burst out laughing again and Kevin felt his face flush hot.

“Connor, it’s time for us to go,” he said quietly.

“That’s fine, I’ll be fine here, you guys go on home.”

“Connor, it’s time for all of us to go home, you included.”

“I’m not going home!” Connor insisted.

“Connor-“

“I will go home,” Connor said, raising a finger to silence Kevin, “if… you suck my dick.”

He threw his head back in laughter again and Kevin set his jaw. “Right,” he said. Then he stood up from his stool and wrapped his arms around Connor. He couldn’t pick him up, but he was certainly strong enough to drag him out, and if words weren’t going to solve anything, then brute force was all that remained. Connor’s struggling made it difficult and his shouts hurt Kevin’s ears, but he managed to get him across the room and out the front door with the others trailing after him, attempting to avoid flying fists and feet.

“Get the door,” Kevin instructed Arnold.

“I’m not going!” Connor screamed over Kevin’s shoulder as he banged his fists on Kevin’s back. All that rage Kevin had once had, all that fear and distress. So this was how it looked on another person, he thought.

Arnold opened the car door and stood aside, his eyes wide, and Kevin pressed Connor forward, pushing his head down so he wouldn’t hit it on the doorway. But just as he was about to set the buckle of the seat belt, Connor ducked under his arm and bolted for freedom. He only got so far as the corner of the bar before he staggered to a stop and vomited onto the sidewalk. It was both a blessing and a curse that Connor had only had breakfast that day. He continued to heave, leaning against one hand as Chris rubbed his back and Kevin and Arnold watched from the sidelines, Kevin prepared to run should Connor attempt another getaway. But he wasn’t in any condition to escape.

The moment he was finished, it was clear that every ounce of motivation had fled Connor’s body as he leaned gasping against the building. Chris asked him if he had taken anything else and Connor shook his head, eyes screwed shut against his nausea. Once it was clear that he wasn’t about to throw up all over Chris’s interior, they helped a very willing Connor into the back seat of the car.

When they reached his house, Chris helped him up the dark stairs with Kevin and Arnold slowly following after them. Then he was put, clothes and all, into the shower. Leaning heavily against the tile wall, hair pressed wet against his scalp and shirt clinging to his collapsing body, Connor looked nothing at all like himself and it was almost enough to make Kevin feel sick.

Once he had been pulled back out of the shower, made to brush his teeth and drink as much water as he could stomach, Connor was led into his room. Wade and Drew had woken up in the fuss and were standing in the hall next to Arnold, not bothering to turn the lights on, as Kevin and Chris undressed Connor and helped him into bed. Chris had towel-dried Connor’s hair and it was sticking up in every direction. It would have been funny under any other circumstance, but at the moment it only made Kevin want to turn away and find something happier.

He didn’t get that chance. As he and Chris went to leave, a hand on Kevin’s wrist stopped him in his tracks. Connor had raised his head and met Kevin’s eyes when he turned to look at him. He looked utterly defeated as he said, “Please stay.”

Kevin turned his eyes to the small crowd in the hallway. They all only looked concerned and expectant, though Kevin might have imagined some hurt in Chris’s eyes. But no one told him not to, so he turned back to Connor and said softly, “Okay,” before climbing into bed with him.

As the door shut, Kevin pulled his shirt over his head and chucked it into a dark corner of the room before settling down under the sheets and taking Connor into his arms. Connor’s hands clung to his bare back like he was scared Kevin would suddenly vanish and Kevin carefully stroked Connor’s damp hair. The room glowed green.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kevin whispered and Connor responded by grasping him more tightly. Kevin couldn’t feel the fear and distress anymore, but he knew it was there. He could feel it in the tension of Connor’s muscles and the way his forehead was pressed hard into his sternum. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on absorbing some of that fear. He was good at that. At taking. It was all he had done all his life.

But it wasn’t quite working. He didn’t have the energy.

Looking out into the dark room, Kevin was at a loss. The slight glow of the streetlights leaked in around the window blinds, but their bond lit the room more than anything. The sheets muffled it, however, like a blanket of snow muffles sound. The distant sounds of people talking in a different room reminded Kevin of nights in his childhood, trying to sleep, hearing his parents talking about him from the living room, thinking he couldn’t hear them. But the voices faded eventually leaving them in silence, punctuated by the rare car speeding down the street.

Connor’s breath was shaking.

“Are you still awake?” Kevin asked.

Connor nodded.

“Do you want me to tell you about Uganda?”

“Please.”


	22. Kevin Price Sleeps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor warning for depression and allusions to self-harm

Chris hadn’t reacted well.

He hadn’t necessarily screamed, but there was a definite crescendo to his voice, a disbelief in his eyes, and a frantic nature to his movements. He had been worried, naturally, but worry was quick to give way to horror and anger and confusion.

Naturally, Connor had been distraught.

Naturally, Kevin had it worse.

The idea of identical twins who share a telepathic bond is a fondly recalled trope of horror and science fiction, used mostly in jest since it became a cliché. But it felt so much more intimate than fiction made it seem. Being inside another person’s head was just as intimate, perhaps more so, than being in bed with them, in Kevin’s opinion. Obviously it was different for him and Arnold, having been together for so long and their bond being more like a touch of the fingers than a grasp of the hand. Intimate, certainly, but only to a degree. They were still their own people with their own thoughts and feelings and lives.

Involuntarily being given possession of an entire person’s emotional capacity had none of the same privacy. There was no opportunity for restraint. It was a passionate embrace of the minds, exhausting as it was invigorating, and much as any other passionate embrace the aftermath was equally tiring. They felt shattered. A passionate embrace of 20-odd years was probably more than the four hour warning on some pill bottles could have ever predicted the effects of and it was like Kevin’s brain was stretched out. It felt empty in the absence of too much.

They slept.

They woke up at 5:37pm on Monday. Kevin left Connor laying limply beneath the sheets to retrieve food from the stash beneath the bookcase and forced Connor to eat a granola bar. He was thirsty, but didn’t fancy the trip across the hall to the bathroom and resigned himself to a dry mouth as he collapsed back into his pillow.

They woke up at 10am on Tuesday, starting to smell bad, but not caring in the slightest. Kevin convinced them both to eat a bag of chips and a few dried mango slices. Kevin mentioned they were missing class. Connor didn’t reply.

They woke up at 2:16am on Wednesday. Kevin made the trek across the hall and filled up two bottles with water, downed one, refilled it, then returned to their shared isolation. He bribed Connor to drink by telling him details from his childhood leaving out critical points for later enticing should it come to that.

They woke up at 12pm on Thursday. They both had to pee so Kevin helped Connor out of bed and into the bathroom where he put them both in the shower and turned on the water hot as they could stand it. He cleaned them both then dried them off and by the time they returned to Connor’s room, Connor had woken up enough to dress himself in pyjama pants before climbing back into bed. Kevin borrowed a pair before joining him.

They woke up at 8:24pm on Thursday to the sound of Kevin’s phone vibrating on the nightstand. He denied the call and sent his father a text saying he would call him later. Connor said that he had thought they’d had a deal. Kevin replied that he had already made good on the deal and this was simply the aftermath.

They woke up at 4:09am on Friday. Connor had had a nightmare. He lay lifeless in Kevin’s arms as his hair was stroked and let himself be embraced. He wouldn’t tell Kevin what the dream had been about. After a long moment of passivity, he wound his arms around Kevin’s chest and buried his face in his shoulder.

They woke up at 11:48am on Friday. They lay mute together eating only to silence their stomachs. Drinking only to make their tongues less leaden. Connor told Kevin he might be falling in love with him. He felt scared. Kevin held him tightly and they felt scared together.

On Saturday, Chris breached their worldly seal. He brought them food, real food, and complained about the smell and acted like he wasn’t worried and took a picture of them, saying Arnold had asked him to so he would know Kevin was still alive. He muttered something that sounded like thank you, something that sounded like you’re welcome, kissed Connor’s unwashed head, then vanished back out into the apartment, sealing them back into the room behind him.

On Sunday, Connor sat up. He didn’t move to go anywhere, just sat there, upright when Kevin woke up. “What’s wrong?” Kevin asked, but he didn’t get a reply. He ran a hand up Connor’s bare back, necessary for both of their comfort. “We missed our appointment with Gotswana,” Kevin said, but he didn’t get a reply. He sat up, bringing up his knees, to sit even with Connor, and put an arm around him, begging the green light to give him something. Anything. “Do you want something to eat?” Kevin inquired, but he didn’t get a reply.

“The snack cupboard is empty,” Kevin muttered, gazing forlornly at the barren shelf. Not that there had been much good there anyways. Connor had told him that it had been stocked up precisely for this purpose, so that if Connor had a downswing then he at least might not starve if he were incapable of leaving his room. Stage manager Connor always thinking forward.

“Do you feel anything?” Connor asked.

His voice was rough and quiet, but it startled Kevin. He had spoken so little in the past week that Kevin had almost forgotten what he sounded like. Not that he really sounded like himself in that moment anyways. But it had to be a good sign that he was sitting up and talking, even if the words had nothing much to do with anything. Or maybe Kevin’s brain just wasn’t functioning the way it used to.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Connor looked at him like he hadn’t expected a reply. Or like he hadn’t noticed that he had asked a question in the first place and wasn’t sure what Kevin was referring to.

“Do you feel anything?” he asked again, more pointedly. “When you touch me… what happens? How much of it is left?”

“Of the bond?” Kevin asked and Connor nodded slightly in response making Kevin suck in a thoughtful breath. What did he feel? He could feel very little of himself let alone anyone else. Arnold was there, steady and constant and worried and distracting as always. A little blue glow in the back of his mind. But where was green? “I don’t feel very much at all,” Kevin answered honestly. “Not of you, not of me. I don’t think it’s because of the bond, I think it’s because of us.”

“Are we broken?”

“I hope so.”

“Why?”

“Broken can be fixed.”

“Cliché.”

“But true.”

Connor sighed and leaned back into Kevin’s arm, letting his head fall against Kevin’s shoulder. “Did you really call your dad?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him what had happened. It was right after… I told him about everything.”

“Everything?” Connor asked, looking up at Kevin.

“Yeah.”

“Everything everything?”

Kevin laughed. “Yeah, just about.” Laughed? How did his body remember how to do that? “He wasn’t too happy.”

“What’d he say?”

“He asked me to come home.”

Connor sat back to look at Kevin properly, rejuvenated by the urgency of the question swimming in his eyes. “What did you say?”

“I said no.”

The urgency gave way to relief before Connor’s gaze fell to the sheets covering his knees. “That’s good.”

“Is it?”

“I wouldn’t want you to go.”

A small smile broke on Kevin’s face and the empty void of his chest warmed a little. “No?”

Connor chewed on his lip and shook his head. His hair was limp across his forehead, straighter than it appeared when he styled it and far too long to be going anywhere but up and still be practical.

“Hard to believe you used to hate me.”

Connor’s eyes shot straight up to meet Kevin’s and he said, “I’ve never hated you.”

“Before New York-“

“I didn’t hate you,” Connor insisted. “I was angry at you, sure, I was hurt, but I never hated you.”

Kevin wasn’t sure how to respond. It didn’t seem like Connor was lying and Kevin supposed he had no reason to, but he couldn’t be sure. Perhaps through his rage-tinted lenses of the past 10 years things had seemed more dire and more extreme than they had actually been. He had always had a habit of blowing things out of proportion. But what was there really to do with this information.

“I never hated you either.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Connor laughed. Just a little. Just softly. But it was the most beautiful thing Kevin had seen in a long time. “For the record,” Kevin said, refusing to take his eyes off the gentle smile that had claimed Connor’s lips, “I don’t want you to go anywhere either.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good, because you’re not allowed to.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I don’t think me or Chris could take it.”

“Well, like I said, I wasn’t planning on it.”

Kevin’s smile faltered and he looked away, trying to hide the way his brow was creasing. It was always hard to tell if Connor was being purposefully oblique or if he genuinely didn’t know what Kevin referred to. Like his thoughts had pressed him to it, his hand drifted to rest on the blanket shaping Connor’s leg. He had seen the scars again during their shower. Hadn’t been able to think of much else for the past few days. Couldn’t begin to comprehend how lucky they were that Connor had chosen a more slow-process method of self-destruction in his panic.

Seeming to understand, the smile fell from Connor’s face as well, leaving them both somber in the dark room. Kevin wasn’t certain what time it was, but there was light leaking in around the blinds so he could only assume in was some time in the afternoon.

“I’m sorry,” Connor whispered. “I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t come and got me. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You weren’t,” Kevin replied, running his thumb across the sheets, feeling Connor’s leg buried beneath, thinking distantly about the marks that lay across it. “Which was my fault, by the way. I got… stupid and I got angry and I pushed too hard.”

“But I was the one who made us do it in the first place. I insisted that we try instead of waiting for Gotswana.”

“You wouldn’t have suggested it if I hadn’t been so freaked out about Chris’s reaction to something I told you to tell him.”

“It was my freak out, though, it wasn’t supposed to-“

“Can I request something?” Kevin cut in before they could spiral any more down the line of fault. Fault line. Not bad. He would tell Arnold about that. He might not get it though. Maybe he would tell Connor once they were both feeling better. Focus, Kevin.

“What is it?” Connor coaxed, stuck between worried and repentant.

“Can we stop apologizing?” Kevin said. “We’ve been apologizing to each other about everything since this thing began and, I’ve got to admit, it’s getting a little annoying.”

Connor looked confused and God it was strange to not feel that confusion bubbling in his chest. “We can’t just stop apologizing. When you do something wrong you have to be sorry for it because otherwise what kind of person are you?”

“Can we stop with the blame, then?” Kevin asked. He was tired of the blame being passed back and forth, each of them insisting that it belonged to one or the other of them, every little thing that went wrong needing to originate with one poor decision and neither of them willing to let the other lay claim. It was just as tiring as all the nasty results. “I just feel like every time something goes wrong we start up this dialogue again and it’s just… it’s not practical.”

“But is it ethical?” Connor replied, only half serious, and Kevin gave him a wry smile.

“Don’t use my major against me,” he said. He tried to amend his thought processes, something he had always found challenging. Thought and word never really went together for Kevin unless the words were on paper and accompanied by footnotes. “I don’t think we should stop being sorry for the things we do to each other, but falling down a rabbit hole of assigning blame doesn’t get us anywhere and every time one of us apologizes for something that’s where it leads.”

“Well, what would you suggest?”

“What about a code word,” Kevin suggested, sounding foolish to himself and instantly backtracking. “Or, no, not a code word, but like… a thing. A thing that translates as an apology without explanation or blame.”

“Like, ‘I’m sorry’?” Connor suggested with a smirk.

“No, more like…” He lifted his hand, uncertain what he was about to do with it and hesitated for a moment before dropping it onto Connor’s hand and tapping his knuckle three times. Light touches with the tips of his fingers, barely noticeable, but irrefutably there. “Something like that.”

“Tapping?”

“Yeah. Like… say you get angry about something and it gets into my head so I yell at you about something else that I shouldn’t have gotten mad about. Instead of some lengthy apology and a bunch of justification or blame, I just…” He tapped Connor’s hand again. One, two, three, in quick succession. “And it’s done. Apology given. No blame applied. No arguments, no hassle, just-“ Tap, tap, tap.

Connor watched Kevin’s fingers move against his hand and his little smile slowly began to return. “I mean… if you yell at me I do want a proper apology. But I think it’s a good idea,” he said. “For small things. Or… for things we can’t control.” He turned his smile to Kevin and Kevin returned it gratefully. “We can try it.”

“Hopefully we won’t need to anytime soon,” Kevin added.

He had almost forgotten his arm was wrapped around Connor’s back until Connor suddenly leaned forward and hugged him. Not like the limp or desperate embraces they had shared over the past dark week, but a warm and careful one that took Kevin a moment to reciprocate.

“Thank you for staying with me,” Connor said into Kevin’s shoulder. “It was more kindness than I deserved.”

“You deserve so much more than that, Connor,” Kevin replied, giving Connor a squeeze and burying his face.

Connor still looked like shit, but he must have been feeling better. Even though Kevin wasn’t feeling much better than he had been two days ago, he was still glad to see his friend regaining some of his strength. He was still grateful, so incredibly grateful, that Connor was still there. That he hadn’t left them all behind. That he had woken up and sat up and talked and smiled. And Kevin was worried it wouldn’t last.

He supposed that was all a part of it. He had known Connor for such a short time, relatively speaking, that he couldn’t have known what had been normal prior to their involvement. Considering the fact that Connor had an entire cupboard in his room stocked and ready in case he couldn’t get out of bed for multiple days it probably wasn’t uncommon for him to have downswings like that. They were probably lucky that this one had lasted such a short time.

But there was always the possibility that it was an act. Maybe he wasn’t feeling better, maybe he had just regained enough strength to fake his way through it. He was certainly no stranger to pyrite smiles and now more than ever Kevin couldn’t tell what he was feeling. But then, perhaps that was a good thing?

“How do you feel, Connor?” he asked.

Connor pulled back from the hug and laughed. “Um. I feel like shit. I feel like I’m just a bit too heavy to get up right now, but I’m hungry so that’s a good sign. I’m thirsty too. But I’m…” He frowned with his eyes even as his mouth smiled. “Happy? I’m a little happy. And I don’t think that’s really normal for a situation like this, but I think maybe you’re helping.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What else can I do to help?”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

The word was out of his mouth before he could even consider it. He wasn’t even sure in which way Connor meant. He wasn’t even sure in which way he meant.

He loved Connor. But what kind of love? He wanted him to be happy and safe and to be there with him. He wanted Connor to make it through the difficult times they were going through and the ones they had ahead and he wanted to help him get through them. He thought that Connor was the most beautiful and vibrant and complicated and distressing individual he had ever met. He wanted to see him smile and hear him laugh and to be the one who made him do those things. And he wanted to touch him and hold him and kiss him and-

But what about infatuation? Where was that line? Clearly he loved Connor, but was he in love with him of was he infatuated with him? Did Connor even know the difference?

And with a heavy heart Kevin had to wonder if the attraction he had been feeling all this time had actually been his own or if it was simply given to him. How much of that had belonged to Connor?

He tried to feel something for him now. He tried to feel anything. He ran his fingers across Connor’s back and paid attention to how it affected his heart. He gazed into his eyes, as much as one conducting an experiment could gaze, and tried to use that image to make his heart skip a beat. He put his hands on Connor’s waist and waited to see if his body would lean forward instinctively.

But it is hard to find these things when one is looking for them. Forcing a feeling is as unnatural as expelling it. And even if he did feel something, who was to say it wasn’t the result of their bond?

“You think far too much,” Connor said with an amused smile.

Kevin diverted his gaze and laughed. “Yeah, I’ve been told that a few times.”

Connor’s hand found it’s way under Kevin’s chin and tilted it up, drawing Kevin’s gaze back to Connor’s eyes, which had taken on a curious expression. “There’s nothing wrong with thinking about those things, Kevin,” he said and Kevin had to wonder what exactly it was his actions had led Connor to believe he had been thinking about.

But there was no denying that the fingers that had migrated from his chin to his jaw were making his heart beat just a little faster. The result he had been searching for. But was it natural? Or was it borrowed?

Connor’s eyes fell to Kevin’s lips and as his thumb caressed his cheek, Connor tilted his own chin forward like he was about to kiss him. And the thought both terrified and excited Kevin and he found himself retreating slightly in the gentle grip.

And there was something there. Wavering faintly in the corner of his head was disappointment. Not his own, but someone else. And he frowned because there had never been anyone else. There had only been Arnold and the combined intents of Connor and Kevin. But there was no one this could be but…

“Close your eyes,” Connor said with a smile, shifting closer, face an eyelash away from Kevin’s.

And a knot formed in Kevin’s stomach. At those familiar words he retreated further, pulling out of Connor’s hand and frowning, trying to understand the sudden reaction. He was terrified. His heart was racing and not in a good way and his look of shock was answered with one of confusion.

“I didn’t mean to-“ Connor began, but Kevin interrupted him with a jilted, “I don’t…”

But he couldn’t really go anywhere from there. His mind was suddenly racing and he had to blink away the anxiety that was forming a fog in his brain. “I don’t think I can kiss you,” he said after a moment, a frown forming on his face.

Connor smiled and moved back, but the smile was not a happy one. “No. No, obviously, I just-”

“I want to,” Kevin continued, desperate for Connor to understand, but not quite understanding himself. Connor looked up at him, curious and defensive. “I want to kiss you, but…”

“What’s stopping you?”

And that was a very good question. One that Kevin was still trying to figure out. But the first time Connor had held him like that, had said those words, had moved that close… “Last time we kissed,” Kevin explained slowly, “something bad happened.”

It took a moment for the memory to resurface in Connor’s mind and when it did he looked relieved. “Kevin, nothing bad is going to happen this time,” he said with a smile. “All the bad stuff has already happened, it’s fine. All good stuff from here on out.”

“Connor, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’ve been laying in this bed for a week. I wouldn’t call that good stuff.”

Connor’s face fell and he looked down and Kevin instantly regretted his words, no matter how true they were. “You’re right,” Connor muttered, shaking his head, his hands grasping at the blankets around his knees. “No, you’re right, it’s not… It’s not really appropriate right now. Not after all of…” He waved his hand vaguely and swallowed and guilt rose thickly in Kevin’s throat. He hadn’t meant to upset Connor. He hadn’t meant to do anything.

“Connor, I didn’t mean- I don’t-“ He swallowed back the guilt and tried again, feeling his heart accelerating in his ribcage. He hadn’t wanted to make Connor upset or disappointed, he wanted him to be happy, wanted to kiss him even, but just thinking about it was making his breath come up short. “I’m really sorry, Connor, I don’t mean I don’t want to, I mean I’m worried. I mean it’s not a choice, I’m just-“ The words tumbled out of his mouth completely detached from rational thought, simply an urge to explain without the thought process to do so.

Connor was growing more and more concerned, taking in Kevin’s increasingly shallow breaths and his crumpling face and the way his hands were beginning to shake and he cut him off, kindly. “Kevin, it’s okay, really, it’s fine.” His hand ran circles over Kevin’s back and he tried to get closer in a comforting way rather than the manner they had been before. “Let’s just sit here for a second, okay? Let’s just take a minute.”

Kevin nodded, suppressing the distress blossoming in his chest and tried to focus on the crease in Connor’s brow or the slight turn of his mouth. But the sight of it only made him feel guiltier, so he turned his gaze to the floor and examined the patterns in the wood instead, tracing the marks of the grain with his eyes as he willed his lungs to cooperate. Christ, he didn’t think he would miss the emptiness, but it certainly would have been helpful in the moment.

Connor’s arm came around his waist and he leaned into the embrace. They sat for a moment in silence as Kevin calmed down. Then Connor turned to look at him gently.

“Is it okay if I kiss your cheek?” he asked.

Kevin nodded. Connor pressed a kiss to his cheek, pairing it with a squeeze.

“Is it okay… if I kiss your neck?” Connor asked, a smile in his voice.

Kevin’s mouth quirked a little and he nodded again. Connor kissed his neck and his thumb rubbed gently against his waist.

“Is it okay if I kiss your temple?” he asked, sounding like he was having fun, and Kevin knew it was put on, but it was making him feel better so he nodded anyways.

Connor kissed his temple and the smile threatening on Kevin’s mouth grew into a tired smirk.

Then he rested his chin on Kevin’s shoulder and hummed. “Well,” he said after a moment. “Nothing bad has happened yet.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Kevin said with a smile.

“I’m not being stupid, I’m being cautious,” Connor replied. “I’m testing the waters for bad karma. Water feels pretty go so far, what do you think?”

“I think,” Kevin said, “it feels okay.”

Connor ran his knuckles gently up and down Kevin’s side, his other hand softly resting on his upper arm. Holding him in his seat, a comforting presence as he always was, and sapping some of the nerves through Kevin’s skin. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” he asked.

Kevin swallowed and his smile crumbled a little. That knot in his stomach tightened and he said, “No.”

“That’s okay,” Connor told him and he sounded sincere. “This is okay.”

He held Kevin tightly, resting his head against his shoulder, and as Kevin sat there feeling sorry for himself he felt a light tap tap tap of Connor’s fingers at his waist. And he couldn’t help but smile.

Kevin imagined wrapping his arms around Connor and kissing him for all he was worth. He imagined pushing him down onto his back on the bed and getting on top of him and losing himself in the kiss. He imagined things he had never done, had never thought of doing before, things he had never wanted to do until now. It was making his body warm thinking about it and he brought his knees towards his chest to hide some of the more visible reaction, burying his face in Connor’s neck to hide his blush from view.

After a long moment, he emerged.

“We stink,” he said and Connor chuckled.

“Yeah, we do.”

“We should shower.”

“Yeah, we should.”

Kevin tried to brush Connor’s hair up out of his face, but it just fell right back down into what looked almost like a bowl-cut, making him smirk. “Maybe we should go shower.”

Connor laughed and looked down and said, “I think I can handle it on my own this time.” Then he carefully kissed Kevin’s cheek before extracting himself from the sheets and making his way out the door.

Kevin didn’t let his knees fall back down until he heard the shower distantly through the walls and he sighed. He spared a glance down and rolled his eyes. “That bad, huh?” he asked quietly.

Equal parts obligation, love and a need to distract himself made him grab his phone and call Arnold. The poor guy was probably beside himself with worry, especially considering the circumstances surrounding his departure. And Kevin missed him, of course, wanted to know what he had been missing during his week of semi-consciousness. And when Arnold answered the phone enthusiastically Kevin found he was equal parts annoyed and relieved to hear it.

“Hey Arnold,” he said with a smile.

“Kevin!” Arnold cried out again. “Dude! I thought you were dead! Chris says you haven’t been out of bed in days!”

“I mean, I have,” Kevin replied. “Just not very much. And you knew I wasn’t dead, Chris sent you a picture, right?”

“Yeah and you looked dead.”

Kevin laughed. “Well, surprise: I survived.”

“I miss you so much, Kevin, it’s been so boring without you here. And church. Jeez, Kevin, I almost died in church today without you there to make it fun. Nostradamus won’t come with me because she says I complain about it too much for it to be fun. But she’s been hanging out with me loads and keeping me company while you’re gone. Things are going really well with her, too. She says I’m getting really good at cooking and she’s proud of me. I’m making her proud, Kevin!”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah! And I’ve been accepted into the culinary program for next September. It’s gonna be so cool! I’m gonna make us cakes and pastas and all kinds of stuff. And Chris is graduating this year so we won’t get to be in any classes together, but he says he’ll help me out with the recipes and stuff. He’s got, like, fifty binders full of tips and hints and stuff. Well, not fifty, that would be ridiculous, more like twelve.”

“Shouldn’t it be a baker’s dozen?”

“Oh, ha ha.”

Kevin grinned and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I’ve missed you too, Arnold,” he said, standing up with a stretch. Every joint was stiff and every muscle ached. He was pretty sure he was developing bedsores too. “I can’t really tell you much, though, since I haven’t really done much, but…”

“Oh, those old ladies you guys know were on the news!” Arnold interjected as Kevin walked over to the window. “The triparty superladies… or… whatever.”

“Tripartite Superanima,” Kevin corrected him. Opening the blinds, he squinted against the sunlight. The world outside looked exactly the same as he had left it. Like nothing had ever happened.

“Yeah, them,” Arnold said. “They were walking about you and Connor and about boring old stuff. Did you know there’ve been like five different groups like them?”

“Three.”

“They were way more entertaining than old people usually are.”

Kevin laughed, remembering his brief interaction with the trio of women. “Yeah, they’re real characters.”

“And they were talking about some kind of religious thing, like people think you guys are the new messiahs or something? Like a miracle. I dunno. They say you’re like a message from God.”

“A message about what?”

“Community or togetherness or whatever. I got bored and changed the channel, but I taped it so you can watch it later if you want.”

It seemed like only yesterday that a small sect of the Catholic Church had condemned Connor and Kevin as liars and sinners, possibly messengers of Satan. And now they were a miracle? He would beg the world to make up its mind if he knew it wouldn’t make national news.

The door to the room opened and Connor came in, a towel around his waist and hair slicked back, looking drawn and weak, but more alive than he had been when he had left. He raised his eyebrows at Kevin before digging through his dresser drawers for a pair of clean boxers. Kevin averted his eyes. He had seen it all already, but it was only polite. And he couldn’t risk the very real possibility that once he started looking he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Bishop Young was asking about you,” Arnold was saying.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, he’s wondering if you’re okay. He asked me to send his regards and wished you health or whatever.”

Kevin nodded and scratched absently at his neck. That made him feel a little guilty, he would admit. He didn’t much like church, but Bishop Young meant well and Kevin had promised to be a better Mormon only to up and vanish from church events altogether. He hadn’t even written the sermon Young had asked him to. Wouldn’t know what to write it on.

“I’ll be back next weekend,” he told Arnold. “I promise. I’ll make something up to tell him.”

“I told him you were sick and when he asked, ‘again?’ I said I meant your mom was sick.”

For someone who lied a good deal, Arnold was certainly bad at it. But it was hard to hold that against him when he only had good intentions. “Okay, I’ll try to keep up the charade. Just don’t tell him anything else. I don’t want to have to memorize a whole complicated scenario because you can’t keep your lies straight.”

“Right.”

He heard Connor sit on the bed and turned to find him wearing pants, but holding his shirt between his knees like he wasn’t sure whether or not to put it on yet.

“Hey Arnold, I gotta go,” Kevin said. “I need to take a shower. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

Once he had hung up, Kevin went to kneel in front of Connor, looking up at him carefully; concerned his mood had slipped again. “Something wrong?” he asked.

“No, I just… I wasn’t sure if I should get dressed or not,” Connor admitted with a sheepish grin.

“How do you mean?” Kevin asked, placing a comforting hand on his knee.

“I mean… I feel like I should,” Connor replied, working out the problem as he spoke. “I feel like I should get up and go do something, but… I don’t really know what I would do.”

“I think anything would be good right now,” Kevin said. “Getting food, getting a drink. Even just going to a different room would be good, I think.”

Connor nodded, fiddling with his shirt before looking up at Kevin. “Do you have a headache?” he asked. “Because I’ve got a really bad headache right now and I need to know it’s not just me.”

Kevin laughed and rubbed his hand across Connor’s thigh, feeling the denim worn soft by worry. “It’s probably because you’ve barely had anything to drink for seven days.”

“I know,” Connor said, voice nearly a whine. “But I like it better when it’s not my fault.”

Kevin laughed again and was pleased to see a small smile on Connor’s lips. He wished he could kiss them. He wished he had that bravery. And he lifted his hand to Connor’s jaw and stared at his lips and tried to work up the courage. He even got so far as to lean up into him. But at the last moment, the fear and worry diverted him to Connor’s cheek and he stood up to hide his disappointment, speaking as he left the room. “Brush your hair,” he said. “I’m gonna go shower.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello, I love you.
> 
> -G


	23. Kevin Price Finds Meaning

The missed phone calls and messages weren’t so bad. Loosing a week of classes was damaging, but not world-ending. Explaining to Gotswana and Smith why they had missed their appointments was a challenge, though the worst of it was the guilt trip and tedious lecture on safety. But even that wasn’t so bad.

“You understand the risks you took in doing that?” Gotswana had said, voice low, body absolutely still. “You understand that making that choice has repercussions?”

“We do,” they had said.

“What did it feel like?” Smith had asked, voice edged with excitement, teetering on the edge of her seat. “What was the short-term effect? Are there still effects? Did you write any of it down?”

They answered the questions as well as they could.

“It felt like hell,” they had told her. “It felt like death.”

Catching up on the news was a chore of necessity, to see what new theories, if any, had come out about them. No one had noticed they were gone. Not on the larger scale.

“We were barely a fad,” Connor said as he rubbed his forehead with steeped fingers, eyes locked on the television set. “I doubt we made any sort of impact at all.”

“Dr. Smith would disagree,” Kevin replied, head on fist, eyes on screen. “She would say we were a major scientific breakthrough.”

“But who cares what science thinks.”

None of it was all that bad. Life went on while they had been locked away and life would continue whether they participated or not. It was difficult to engage with it, sure, but it was just an entity separate from themselves that would be sustained whether they liked it or not. Going with it was their choice, but go it would.

The hard part, in Kevin’s mind at least, was the lasting effects of the mind meld, a term Arnold had graciously gifted it. By the very next week, things between Kevin and Connor were mostly back to normal. But every now and then, they wavered. An emotion would detach itself from Kevin’s heart and float in his mind instead. He could feel it sitting there, observable but unobtainable, until it chose to return to him.

When asked about it, Connor admitted that he could feel it too. Changes in his mood, in his way of thinking. An emotion would suddenly come to him and it made sense, but he could never hold on to it. It was unpredictable enough to be worried about, but Gotswana assured them that it was only the beginning.

“We will continue with our sessions,” he said. “And I will continue to talk Connor through meditations and exercises to help him get more in touch with these emotions. It will be a slow process. It must be slow. These things take time.”

He made them promise not to try anything at home ever again other than gentle meditation and the pair agreed, feeling chastened and determined.

It was distracting, though, to have those feelings breaching some sort of barrier at will, fluctuating without warning throughout the day. With exams approaching and a great deal of work neglected, Kevin spent the evenings locked in his room trying to get papers finished and readings read. But it was hard. He couldn’t focus these days.

Sitting at his desk, books open, pen uncapped, Kevin would lean back in his chair and tap the pen on his knee as he thought about other things. There was a great deal to think about.

There was a great deal he didn’t much want to think about, but that pushed its way to the front of his mind regardless.

How long could they keep this up? How long would it take to finally get them somewhere remotely good? What was going to happen when Connor and Chris graduated? Would they move away? Would they leave Kevin behind, given the chance? Would they leave all of this behind, given the choice? Was Connor really falling in love with him?

And there was another thing. They hadn’t brought it up and, though the curiosity of it was tremendous, Kevin didn’t particularly want to bring it up. They had very nearly kissed and they hadn’t brought that up either. They both felt like topics that Connor should take control of. They were his responsibility to bring back to the table. And Kevin might have been selfish in thinking so, but he couldn’t imagine anyone else bringing it up would be anything other than embarrassing for everyone involved.

Who was involved? That was another question. Things that related to the bond were the business of Arnold and Chris to a degree, but Kevin wasn’t certain what was a personal private topic that they needn’t know about and what would be okay to bring to Arnold for advice. How much of what they did fell under the scope of soulmate privilege? Their whole lives seemed to be dictated by that relationship, but Gotswana was always reminding them that they were people too who deserved to have private live and who weren’t defined by that Dr. Smith found to be scientifically relevant. How much that went on between them was theirs alone?

The pen broke. Thick ink spilled over his sweats, breaking his train of thought. He let out a cry and held the pen up and away like that alone would prevent it from leaking anymore and it dripped away on the floor as he stared aghast at the black stain on his knee. Noticing the drops he muttered, “Shit,” and threw the pen (warily) into the trash. He ran a hand over the spot without thinking and rather than making it go away it only oozed out across the fabric and stained his hand.

“Fuck,” he whispered, holding his darkened hand in the air away from the stain like the mark on his palm was an open wound.

After a moment of looking around for tissues, Kevin got up and went to the bathroom to wash his hand. Then he removed his sweatpants and tried running the stain under a tap, but it didn’t really do much other than spread the stain further. So he filled the sink and left the pants in to soak, figuring he could look up how to remove ink stains later. There was a bluish blob left on his thigh from where the ink had soaked through and it matched the one on his hand nicely. Nothing a bit of soap couldn’t fix.

Sounds were coming from the living room and Kevin realized Arnold was still up, which really aught not have been much of a surprise, so, knowing he was never going to be able to get his concentration back that night, he trudged out in his boxers to join him on the couch.

“Hey,” he said.

“Mm,” said Arnold.

“It’s remarkable,” said the TV.

Ever since their first TV spot, Arnold had taken to watching the news at night, though he still alternated regularly with a movie or trash tv (“It’s not trash, it’s Adam West!”) and he would relay the most interesting bits to Kevin at breakfast. Currently there was a man sitting at a table with two anchors, looking wildly intrigued with something and excitedly babbling on about his theories.

“We can’t even begin to understand the implications,” he said. “We assume this is an isolated incident, but we have no quantitative proof. It’s impossible to prove, in fact. There are approximately 8 billion people on Earth at this moment and each of us, in our lifetime, comes into contact with perhaps a few hundred at a personal level. Of those few hundred we meet our soulmate, and we assume based on our current understanding of anima function that we meet this person through an intractable pull. Our ‘souls’, or whatever you want to call them, are attracted to each other at a base level, like magnets. But once we find this soulmate we stop looking. What are the odds that in, say, 5 hundred out of 8 billion people we meet the exact right one. We’ve heard of soulmates coming together from different countries, different continents, and yet we assume this person we’ve met is the only one. If you go by the statistic of one in every five hundred then the math concludes that in actuality we each have one and a half million soulmates.”

“Is that actually a possibility?” said an anchor.

“That’s a highest possible estimate,” the man said with a sating hand gesture. “We also need to take into account the attraction. But we have to admit, it’s rather unlikely, nearly impossible even, that each of us has only one soulmate. We’ve seen four cases now where that simply isn’t the situation, either a series or closed circuit of multiple anima connection. We assume that these incidents are one in a billion, one in two billion, but do we really know?”

“Is there any way to test this?” asked the other anchor.

“We do have systems that can read anima energy and find complementary signatures, but very few people, really, are in the system. And with privatized corporations taking over these roles on the doctors’ office we’re seeing even less appreciable evidence.”

“Are you saying we should pool these resources?”

“I’m saying there’s an argument to be made here for a genuine inquest into obtainable information to see if we can discover any corroborating evidence. There’s absolutely no reason not to launch an international study. For all we know each of us has two or three other soulmates out there that we’ve never even met and will never meet because we assume that we’ve found our only match. Because, really, out of 8 billion people, how many are you realistically going to come across? I’ve never left the States in my life, I could have a whole scourge of soulmates in- in Copenhagen or Canberra or Israel. But in certain countries, third-world countries especially, there’s a deficit of data. We have no way of knowing.”

“That’s garbage,” Arnold muttered.

“You don’t think it could be true?” Kevin asked.

“If it is true, then wouldn’t there be a ton of people out there like you?” He turned to look at Kevin as he said it and his eyes drifted momentarily down before he turned back to the broadcast. “Where are your pants?”

“In the sink.”

“Oh.”

“I broke my pen and got ink on them.”

“Oh.”

They watched as the screen shifted from the blue studio to a commercial for women’s deodorant and Kevin tried to relax into it, but his mind was still floating in all directions. Connor was meditating. He could tell because he could feel the soft green emotions hovering in some remote corner of his head instead of tinting his mood. It wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, but it was difficult to get used to. Distracting. He could picture Connor’s face, eyes closed, back straight, breathing deep and measured. He hadn’t seen nearly enough of him lately. Which was utterly ridiculous, he knew, considering the previous week – considering everything – but even a few days apart was enough to make him miss him now.

“Can I talk to you about something?” Kevin asked after a moment.

Arnold cast him a glace before muting the TV and turning to face him fully. “Anything.”

Kevin couldn’t help but smile a bit at the certainty with which he had said it and looked down at his unclothed legs. “How long does it take to fall in love?”

A grin pierced Arnold’s face and by the tone of his voice he was suppressing delight and embarrassment. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said, eyes wandering the ceiling. “I mean, like, I’m not in love with Naruto yet, but I really, really like her. And I don’t think she’s in love with me. But I think it takes different amounts of time for different people. I mean, like, I’ve never been in love before so I don’t know, but in movies and TV it takes, like, a couple of days, so who knows.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but I think TV lied to you.”

Arnold laughed. “I obviously don’t believe it,” he said, swatting loosely at Kevin’s arm. “But I dunno. Love at first sight probably isn’t a thing, but… I don’t know.”

Kevin nodded and looked down again, trying to figure out if he had known Connor long enough for either of them to be in love. And if they weren’t how long would it take? Was he falling in love? Did he want to?

The news report had come back on, but they had moved on to other topics, more pressing news, Kevin thought, than anything he could produce.

“Why do you ask?” Arnold said, his gaze drawn back to the muted screen and Kevin couldn’t be sure which task he was really focusing on.

“Connor kissed me.”

Eyes were immediately back on Kevin and a hand had joined them, clamped around his wrist, searching for his hand without looking. “Dude,” Arnold said as he felt around for a hand to hold on to. Eventually Kevin gave it to him and he held it up between them like they used to. Blue reflected intensely in Arnold’s wide eyes. “He what? When?”

“Months ago,” Kevin clarified, wiggling his fingers, trying to get Arnold to loosen his grip just a little. “It was back when we first met. Like, not the first time we met, but at the party. You remember the party.”

“Of course I remember the party.”

“Right. Well. It was… when Connor and I were alone… That time I wouldn’t tell you what had happened. That was what happened. Connor kissed me and I… I kissed him back.”

Unexpectedly, Arnold looked disappointed and he dropped Kevin’s hand as he rolled his eyes. “Oh, that. That’s old news.”

“What do you mean, ‘old news’?” Kevin asked incredulously. He had hoped this announcement would have a slightly bigger impact than that, but why was he surprised by anything anymore. “You bothered me about that night for so long and now you don’t care?”

“I care,” Arnold assured half-heartedly. “I just… kinda knew for a while now.”

“How could you possibly know about that?”

“Connor told me.”

Now that really did take Kevin aback. Chris, he would have understood, he and Arnold were close, but Kevin didn’t think that Arnold and Connor had ever had much of a rapport at all. They only ever talked when their soulmates were around and then it was hardly about anything but. This was the first Kevin had heard about it.

“When did he tell you that?”

“Like, a month ago?” Arnold said with a shrug, absorbed back into the images on screen. “Some time around when he really hated you. He came over one day while you were in class.”

Kevin would have liked to believe it was innocent and friendly, but given the time and the way the two interacted, he was having a hard time believing that. “What was he doing here?”

“He wanted to talk to me about something.”

“What did he want to talk to you about?” Kevin pressed.

Arnold cast him a couple of uncertain looks before turning in his seat slowly, facing Kevin, but not looking at him. “He asked me if you’d ever hit me.”

Kevin’s breath left his body. “What?”

It had been a rare warm day. Arnold had only been home for an hour before he got a text from Connor asking if he could come over. ‘Kevin’s not here,’ Arnold had replied to which Connor had said, ‘I know. I want to see you.’

He had arrived looking determined, but softly so. Worry pressing his hands to his legs the moment he sat down on the couch. “No thank you,” he said when offered something to eat or drink. Not knowing what else to do, Arnold had returned to his video game, shooting aliens as Connor watched silently.

He broke the silence halfway through level three. “Kevin has a temper, doesn’t he?” he said, more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah, I guess.”

A kill streak. A swarm of aliens flooded into the room and Arnold switched to his machine gun.

“Does he yell at you a lot?” Connor asked.

“Sometimes.” Bang bang. “I get on his nerves sometimes, I think. Used to get on my dad’s nerves too.”

Combo.

“But he gets mad a lot?”

“Yeah.” Grenade. Boom. “But it’s not really his fault, you know? I’m, like, a super annoying person. And he’s got this anxiety disorder that makes him all jumpy and on edge. And, like, he was treated for anger stuff a while back, but it was mostly just an extension of the anxiety.”

Phase cleared.

“That doesn’t excuse it, though.”

“No. But I’ve gotta be understanding, you know? I’ve gotta be supportive.” Health pack, thank God. “It’s not his fault if he gets angry. It’s all, like, pent up, and it’s gotta come out sooner or later. Sometimes I just do something that tips the scale and, um…” That’s too many health packs. Oh no.

“And he explodes?”

“Yeah.” Boss fight.

“That’s not very fair to you.”

Connor watched Arnold play a bit. This was always a tricky one. He always forgot which extremity to aim for and he always missed the eye. Too many lives had been wasted on this boss.

“Has he ever…” Connor began, trailing off just as Arnold managed to stun the boss. It got up again too quickly for him to do much damage. “Has he ever hit you?”

Arnold turned sharply to look at Connor and on screen his character died, falling into blackness with a Wilhelm-esque scream. “What?”

“Has Kevin ever hit you? When he explodes like that?”

“No!” Arnold exclaimed, appalled at the very notion. “Of course not! He would never!”

“Has he ever broken your stuff?”

“Not on purpose! Kevin would never do something like that! What are you saying!?”

Connor rubbed his knees and lowered his eyes. “I’m just trying to make sure everything’s okay.”

Arnold stared at him for a long moment as the screen counted down to his respawn. “Everything’s fine,” he said.

“Good. That’s good.”

“Yeah, it’s good! It’s great! Kevin yells sometimes, sure, but he would never lay a hand on anyone! He’s not like that!”

“Arnold, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay! You can’t just come in here and accuse him of something like that!”

“I needed to be sure.”

Another long silence.

“Did something happen?” Arnold asked, suddenly concerned, because Kevin had never hit him, but he had certainly looked like he wanted to at times. He wouldn’t have believed it could happen, but anything was possible. Connor wouldn’t lie.

“Did he ever tell you what happened in Dr. Smith’s office?” Connor asked and that confused Arnold because certainly he had. Both Kevin and Connor had told him about the results of their tests and the larger implications.

“Yeah.”

“But did he tell you everything?”

Kevin looked down at his knees again. “Arnold, I would never-“

“I know you wouldn’t,” Arnold shrugged. “That’s what I told Connor. I also know you like to keep secrets and I figured you didn’t want me to know about the whole kiss thing for whatever reason. But also, that was ages ago, dude. Get over it.”

“Yeah,” Kevin said, trying to laugh. He wondered what else Connor had told Arnold. Or even if there was anything else he had kept from Arnold that Connor could possibly know. He hadn’t told him much about the week in bed, but really not much had happened. Not until that last day. Was it significant enough to tell Arnold about? Would he even care?

Arnold cared about everything.

“We almost kissed last week.”

“Dude, your life is like a soap opera.”

“I’m… not really sure how to respond to that.”

Arnold laid a hand on Kevin’s knee and looked up at him condescendingly. “Gotswana said that week was a shockwave, right?”

“I don’t think that was quite the word he used.”

“It was just a blast from the mind meld.”

“Sure.”

“So it didn’t mean anything.”

He turned on the volume as the anchor said something about failing crops in the Midwest and Kevin sat there feeling like Arnold was wrong. It had meant something. Almost kissing someone meant something whether they were in the midst of a ‘mind meld shockwave’ or not. Connor saying he was falling in love meant something.

Kevin knew it was true. He had been falling in love for him for weeks. There had been a build up leading to the moment, he was certain of it, like an out of tune symphony building to a climax. Days and days of urges and want, and kissing Connor was the final logical step. Arnold was wrong. It meant something.

He said so.

“Are you seriously going to get into this?”

“Why not?” Kevin asked, defensive. It made sense to look into. Research into the unknown was one of his most accomplished skills. The unknown existed to be researched and Kevin really didn’t know much at all about any of this.

“Wouldn’t it be kind of weird?” Arnold asked. “Like, what if it didn’t mean anything? What if you’re just thinking too much about it and making up things that weren’t there?”

“I’m not, though.”

“Like, I’m not gonna stop you from looking into it,” Arnold said. “It’s just… weird.”

“When is it not?” Kevin replied with a sigh.

~

Kevin was hit with a battery of questions and sarcasm when he entered the shop on Friday. Arnold had had the good grace to call them the previous week to let them know Kevin wouldn’t be in, but that wasn’t going to make his coworkers show any form of restraint.

To their credit, they did seem at least a little concerned.

“Just don’t go disappearing like that again, huh Price?” Grant said, slapping Kevin on the back while Logan was too busy to overhear. Through the ever-present sardonic tone there was something gentle in the words and it all felt very out of place.

But for some reason, he was mostly glad to be back in the shop. He had always liked plants, and for some reason being surrounded by all that green just put a smile to his face.

And he thought about Connor a lot.

Connor’s smile, Connor’s laugh, Connor’s embrace, Connor’s emotion, mostly floating today, a reassuring presence in the back of his skull. Connor’s choir performance was coming up soon and Kevin was looking forward to it more than he thought he would. After the last show Connor had recommended to him, it would have been rational to be wary of such events, both for the stressful aspects and for the boring ones. But knowing it would be Connor onstage, Connor he would be watching, made it far from boring.

He had a plan for it, too, one which he hoped would surprise Connor and make him smile and maybe laugh and hopefully embrace. And he couldn’t wait. His heart was aching for the moment almost as much as it feared it.

When he got back from lunch, it was Kevin who was surprised.

“Connor?” he said as he entered the main room, just pulling the apron on over his head as a smile spread across his features. “What are you doing here?”

Connor turned around and the shimmering buoy of emotion in Kevin’s head warmed with fondness as that same feeling was echoed by blue eyes. “Hey, Kevin. I was waiting for you.” He walked over as Kevin tied up his uniform, fingers grazing along the protruding foliage of the displays.

“I was at lunch,” Kevin told him. “Did you need to talk to me? Was there something you needed?”

“No, I just needed to get some flowers,” Connor replied with a shrug. As he came near, he adjusted Kevin’s apron so it sat properly about his waist and Kevin flushed a little.

“Grant or Logan could’ve taken care of that,” Kevin said, noting how Connor’s fingers lingered on his hips, just for a moment, before falling back to his own pockets.

“Logan already rang it up for me, but I wanted your help in getting them.”

“He’s been here for like 15 minutes,” Logan told Kevin from behind the counter. Evidently he didn’t have enough to do, though Kevin could think of plenty that needed doing elsewhere where he would be much less intrusive. “I kept offering.”

“I had time, I decided to wait,” Connor told them both, looking amused. “And you looked… busy.”

“I’m swamped,” Logan agreed as he tried to build a second floor to the house of cards he was making out of store business cards.

“He’s swamped,” Connor told Kevin.

Kevin laughed and nodded. “Obviously.”

“Come on, Kevin,” Connor said, placing a hand at Kevin’s back and directing him into the other room. “Let’s go get some roses.”

Asking Connor about the things he had said, about the things they had both said, during their week alone was a much harder prospect when faced with it so immediately. He tried to think of a way to bring it up as he got behind the bouquet station and found the stash of single roses, fresh that day, but he surprised himself by finding he hadn’t prepared any sort of script for himself. There was nothing he could really say to bring it all up organically, so he was forced to think fast as he made light conversation about their plans.

Bringing up anything about that period of time was a challenge, if he was being honest. It was a combination of not particularly wanting to dwell on so much wasted time and energy, and worrying about how talking about such things would affect Connor. Especially now that he was in possession of at least some of his emotional capacity.

But it felt like it needed discussion. They had talked about some of it with Gotswana, and even with Dr. Smith, but the dull extent of it was still buried under twenty feet of silence. And which aspects were important to discuss anyways? They all felt important, but not all of them came with a specific topic to discuss. How was he meant to talk about things for which no words existed? They felt important to discuss, but he wasn’t sure if it was even possible.

Did Connor love Kevin?

The warmth in that one spot of his head and the softly glowing smile Connor was sporting seemed to be leaning that way. But what kind of love? What kind of love did Kevin feel because there was definitely love, a different kind of love to the love he felt for Arnold, but not necessarily a romantic sort of love. Or was it?

19 years of not really acknowledging his romantic or lustful sides followed by two to five of acknowledging them, but still neglecting them in favour of other things, meant he didn’t have much experience. Didn’t have any experience if he was being honest.

Lost in thought, he managed to tape his hand to the paper wrapping he was putting around the roses (17) and he was shaken out of it by Connor’s blatant entertainment.

“Oh,” Kevin said, looking down at it, taking a second to regain himself enough to undo the tape and pull his hand free. “Sorry, I was thinking.”

“I know,” Connor said. “You get this specific look on your face when you’re thinking too hard about something. Like everything else just leaves you.”

Kevin laughed in embarrassment and tried to focus more on the task at hand. “Is that how everyone always knows?”

“You’re not subtle, I’ll tell you that.” Connor’s eyes darted from the wrapping to Kevin’s frown of concentration and back. “Not about anything.”

“Trying to embarrass me?” Kevin asked.

“Just stating facts.”

Kevin handed him the flowers and Connor smiled as he took them, but his smile faded slightly as he looked at Kevin sideways. “You’re not going to ask me what these are for?” he asked.

“I figure they’re for some show or other,” Kevin said, leaning forward on the counter. “End of the year, there’s probably a ton of them happening, right?”

“You’re not wrong,” Connor said with a weary nod. “I’ve got to say, all our appointments and stuff are wreaking havoc on my schedule. I’ve got to be in rehearsals most nights and I have to do all my homework while I’m there or I’d never have time to get it done. I’m almost excited for school to be over, even if I don’t have a clue where I’m going after.”

Kevin’s heart sank a little at the thought of Connor leaving once the school year was through and tried to smile through it, but knew it came out a little sad. “Still trying to figure that out?”

“I mean, obviously I have to stay nearby so we can keep up our appointments and everything,” Connor said, sending a flush of relief through Kevin that made his shoulders loosen. “But I’m not just going to put my career on hold. I can’t exactly work for the school when I’m not going there anymore, but I’ve got to make money. And, no offence, but I’d like to avoid retail for as long as humanly possible.”

“None taken,” Kevin said. “I’m just glad you’ll still be around.”

“Of course I’ll be around,” Connor said like it was obvious, but there was a warmth to his voice that let Kevin know it was just a front. “I’m literally incapable of not being around you. Or have you entered a different reality altogether?”

“Not at all.”

“Then you know you’re stuck with me.” Peering into the paper wrapper, Connor carefully reached inside. “I’ve got to go,” he said, “I’m already running late. I’ll see you later okay?” He pulled out a rose and held it out to Kevin who looked at it dumbly.

“Not satisfied with my choice?” he asked as he took it delicately between his fingers.

“I bought it for you, you idiot,” Connor said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s not a sunflower, but I think it’ll do. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a whole world out there that doesn’t revolve around us.” He gently patted Kevin’s stunned face before turning and leaving the room and Kevin listened to Logan mutter what was hopefully a goodbye as a smile tentatively quirked his lips.

Maybe he didn’t need to ask. Maybe he could just accept it all and let life take him where it wanted to.

He looked down at the rose in his hand – dark pink, almost red – and the smile stopped being quite so tentative.

Maybe thinking about life was the wrong way to go about it.

He wandered over to the doorway just in time to see Connor disappearing out the front door. He turned and saw Kevin watching him and gave a wave through the window, which Kevin gladly returned, and even though he still didn’t really understand everything he thought that maybe that was okay.

He placed the rose behind his ear and wondered if it was too late to have a new favourite flower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will go up in like a week and... I gotta say... I think you're gonna like it.
> 
> -G


	24. Kevin Price is Happy

Kevin ran his hands over his knees. The fabric was rough, unworn, and it left a tingling sensation in his palms.

“Dude, why are you so nervous?”

His eyes snapped over to Arnold who was looking amused and Kevin let out an embarrassed smile. “I’m not sure,” he replied. “I think I’m a little excited.”

Arnold laughed and put his arm around Kevin’s shoulders shaking him fondly as his other hand took Nabulungi’s. “Relax, bud, remember what the last one was like.” Kevin smiled and tried to relax, but they both knew it wasn’t going to happen.

Kevin really wasn’t sure why he was nervous and excited. He could feel Connor in his head, detached and worried in his own particular way, so he knew it was only him. Exclusively his nerves. There were still moments where he worried, even when he could feel the separation, that his moods were not his own, but Gotswana had been working with him doing some cognitive behavioural therapy that was meant to help him combat those thoughts. Logic in its purest form.

There were no concerns about it that day, though, he could tell it was just him. And he had no clue why. Or perhaps he did, but he preferred not to linger on it. Just picturing the moment he knew was coming washed his body in dreadful anticipation and they hadn’t even gotten through the lead-up yet. There was a whole show to see before he needed to worry about what he had planned, and yet it seemed to be all he could think about.

He tried to focus on Connor’s feelings instead, careful not to tug at them, only observe. His heart must have been racing. Stage fright was probably Connor’s most potent feeling and Kevin could easily distinguish it from other anxieties by now. It was tumbling and swirling and lashing out Kevin wished he could be there to help him through it. But it was happening more and more these days that Connor would feel something and Kevin would offer to help and Connor would respond with, “No, this is mine. I’m going to handle it.” And Kevin would be proud if he wasn’t so perpetually worried.

Pulling out his phone he sent a message to Connor. ‘You’re going to do great :)’ and the moment it was read he could feel the shift in his head and a warmth in his heart that set his smile off fiercely.

‘Be prepared to be wrong,’ Connor replied.

‘I’m never wrong.’

Turning off his phone he replaced it in his pocket and sat back in his seat, hands fidgeting in his lap. He cast several glances over to the package occupying the seat next to him, worried that it was a mistake or the wrong choice or that he should have gone with something more or something less, but Arnold took his hand silently and Kevin reassured himself that Connor would love it no matter what.

Nabulungi had gushed when she saw it on her arrival and at his barrage of questions about whether he should return it or get different ones or this or that she put her hands on his arms and warmly told him that it was perfect. She was good at that, at reassuring him. It was easy to see what Arnold saw in her and Kevin was always silently amazed at how she always seemed to have just the right words for him, at how good she was at knowing people without any sort of bond at all.

He would be envious if she wasn’t so endearing.

He regretted his jealousy towards her when they had first met, the resentment when he wanted Arnold all to himself, because Nabulungi was possibly the most perfect girl in the entire world and Arnold deserved nothing less. Though, maybe he was a little biased. But she was kind and beautiful and honest and though she showed a troubling lean towards gullible he was hard-pressed to consider it a fault.

The lights in the theatre dimmed and Kevin straightened his back, pupils widening, stomach jumping, as a light came up on the risers onstage. They were still empty. And Kevin became aware of people moving in the aisles. Dressed in all black, it was like shadows shifting among shadows, as the students walked single file down to the stage, singing low, haunting harmonies. It was beautiful and claustrophobic, but at the moment Kevin was more concerned with catching sight of someone familiar.

They were coming down both aisles and Kevin wasn’t sure which one to be watching, but soon he spotted him, buried between two other boys, looking pristine and ghostly in black. Kevin smiled to himself and watched Connor pass by, slightly disappointed that he didn’t peer over at him, trying to pick his voice out of the crowd, but it all blended together into a great sea of tones, undulating and occasionally breaking in waves and by the time the song was over and the choir was assembled on the risers Kevin was absorbed.

The conductor appeared onstage in the midst of applause and began to explain the themes of the night and Kevin kept his eyes trained on Connor, standing sentinel in the middle of the vocalists. He would have vanished had his pale skin not stood out so clearly against the dark shirts of the boys behind him. He might as well have been glowing under those lights.

He didn’t look nervous, but Kevin could feel it itching in his head and did his damnedest to try and absorb some of it. Just a little. Connor seemed to notice the tug and he looked out into the audience with a hint of confusion on his face. ‘Look at me,’ Kevin thought. ‘Find me, I’m right here.’ The moment Connor’s eyes landed on Kevin his shoulders relaxed and he gave him the barest hint of a reproachful look before turning his attention back to the conductor who was talking about something to do with the elements.

Getting the message loud and clear, Kevin backed off, wanting to help but knowing Connor wanted to do this on his own. And besides that, the itch in his head had smoothed some when they had spotted each other and Kevin couldn’t help but be a little glad that even if he couldn’t take on those nerves for Connor he could at least be a comforting presence.

When the conductor turned back to her choir the applause took Kevin by surprise and he realized he hadn’t heard any of what she had said. When she raised her baton and the vocalists raised their books he settled in, ready for a long and possibly boring show. When she brought down the baton and the music began his chest emptied and his features smoothed and he realized that it didn’t matter how long the show was, how otherwise boring it might be, because the emotion coming from Connor was indescribable.

There was some magnificent combination of focus and pride and love and it infected Kevin in the most divine way. It made his breath go low and his heart slow and his skin tingle and he would have closed his eyes to let the full effect of the music and the bond take him, but he would much rather be looking at Connor.

His features were smooth, his hands delicately pressed to the back of his music book, his eyes floated between the pages at the baton, and every trace of worry and show was erased from his being. The stage fright had almost entirely evaporated and all that was left was Connor in his purest form; no pretend, no hiding, just Connor. And he was beautiful.

The song ended and Connor was grinning, laughing along with the rest of them at some joke the conductor had made and he looked so entirely in his element that Kevin felt a shot of sorrow that Connor was incapable of being onstage beyond this performance.

“It’s not so bad with a group,” Connor had told him when he asked how it was possible.

“How do you sing in a choir if you get so scared like that?” Kevin had asked him and Connor had smiled an unreadable smile.

“I’m surrounded by people all doing the same thing,” he said. “My voice is important, it makes a difference, but it blends, you know? It’s singular, but it’s also just one piece of a whole. It’s a community on stage like that, and with the conductor telling us what to do and when, it’s easy.”

Kevin knew what that felt like. Being one individual combining with others to create a whole. It was how church had been when he was younger. One voice among dozens singing hymns together, he had felt important and, not necessarily invisible, but integrated into a great being. That was what God was meant to make him feel, not the confusion and the fear he had developed by the time he was old enough to understand who he was and how his community felt about that. One part of a whole, just like in Uganda, with his failed mission, a group of people lost and then found by each other, and working together to create something beyond themselves.

Music.

It was what he had been missing for so long. He found he missed it. Sitting in that seat in the darkened theatre, watching his best friend, his something more, at peace with himself for the first time since they had met, only if for a moment, he felt an emotion so powerful that it did not have a name. He wanted it to last forever and he wanted it to stop immediately and he wanted to be up there too, to be a part of that great thing, and he wanted Connor.

By the time intermission rolled around he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Hey, Kevin, you okay?” Arnold asked quietly.

“Do you ever think about Uganda?” Kevin replied distantly.

“Ah, sorry I’m late!”

They both looked up to find Chris wading over to them looking rushed. He hadn’t quite forgiven Kevin for everything that had happened yet, but much like his soulmate he was good enough at faking it.

Nabulungi, Arnold, and Kevin all shifted their knees to let him pass and Kevin quickly snatched up the package to let Chris sit down. He did so slowly, eyes on what Kevin held in his hands. “Is that for Connor?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Kevin said, feeling a little embarrassed.

But Chris only grinned at him and said, “He’ll love it.” Then his eyes went to the stage with concern and he asked, “Connor didn’t notice I was gone, did he? I didn’t think I would miss the whole first half but turns out they don’t let you in until intermission if you get in late. I only got here ten minutes after it started, but I had to hang around in the lobby.”

“I’m not sure, we haven’t seen him,” Kevin told him.

“Shoot.”

“He probably didn’t notice,” Arnold assured him kindly and Chris looked doubtful.

If Connor had spotted Kevin in the crowd, he would likely have been able to see Chris was absent, but Kevin elected not to bring it up. For all he knew, Connor hadn’t looked at anyone else and he certainly didn’t want to make a point of exposing the connection, not to Chris.

“I told my manager I needed to be out early today, like I told them two weeks ago and they said it was fine, but then they made me stick out the shift. It’s ridiculous, there’s not even anyone there, they all go to Starbucks.” Chris glanced over at Kevin and let his eyes draw down. “You’re a little overdressed, aren’t you?”

Worry struck Kevin hard, but he reminded himself that overdressed was better than underdressed and he thought he looked pretty good so who cared what Chris thought anyways? “I wasn’t sure what to wear,” he admitted. “Thought it would be better to look nice than show up in sweatpants.”

“Can’t argue with that, but I honestly can’t believe you wore a tie.”

Kevin looked down at his sunflower tie and couldn’t help but smile a little. “It felt appropriate.”

“You look like you’re about to go on a first date,” Arnold chimed in and Chris loudly agreed.

“I think you look nice, Kevin,” Nabulungi told him firmly as Arnold and Chris joked back and forth about Kevin’s imaginary date.

“Thanks, Nabulungi,” Kevin said. Then to his other two companions, “And you two can say whatever you want, I think I look good.”

“I mean obviously you look good,” Chris said with a roll of his eyes. “You never don’t look good. But it’s like the wrong kind of good for the situation.”

Arnold laughed, but a moment later he was whispering in Kevin’s ear, “You look perfect, dude.”

The conductor and choir returned to the stage shortly thereafter, taking a moment to settle back into their formal mood that was instantly broken by the conductor’s anecdote about a professor she had met in the lobby, sending a ripple of laughter across the stage and through the seating. The second half of the performance was introduced and the music swelled once more and Kevin felt that feeling of bliss come over him again.

He was distantly aware of Chris looking up at him on occasion, unable to check what the look could mean as his eyes were glued back on Connor. He was certain that his heart was shining on his sleeve like a beacon, but tried not to care. The bouquet he was holding was shining heart enough.

Once the show ended and the lights went up, anxiety returned to Kevin as Kevin returned to the lobby. He wondered if this was the right move, if Connor would like it, if he was embarrassing Connor by doing this in public. But when Connor appeared at the door to the lobby and he smiled at him from across the room any concerns vanished as Kevin smiled back.

Connor started towards them and Kevin was absolutely struck with how he looked in his all black clothing – collared shirt, dress pants, shiny dress shoes, waistcoat, but no tie – and he thought it was possibly the best he had ever looked. For the second time ever, Kevin felt like his tie was too goofy in comparison to Connor’s overdone splendor, but perhaps that balance was well-matched. And his heart started to pick up speed as Connor neared.

But a small group of students were suddenly around Connor and Kevin realized that he had forgotten that unlike him, Connor had friends. And sure, he kept looking over at Kevin over the shoulders of his friends, but Kevin still felt his heart sink a little.

Chris tugged at his arm. “Come on,” he said, walking over to the group, and though Kevin felt like the bouquet was too intimate a gesture for so many people he didn’t know to bear witness to, he followed, knowing it would be rude and possibly misconstrued if he didn’t.

The four of them pushed their way into the group and Kevin realized he recognized a few of them from the party. They were all friendly enough, he knew, but he still felt out of place and would rather he had been able to great and congratulate Connor in relative privacy.

But the group didn’t deter the look of amazement on Connor’s face when he caught sight of the flowers in Kevin’s hand. “Are those for me?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

Kevin would have liked to say ‘yes’ and ‘congratulations’ and ‘you were fantastic,’ but the eyes on him made him feel a little defensive so he shrugged and said instead, “No, I’m just taking my flowers for a walk.”

And Connor grinned and said, “Shut up and give me my flowers.” And Kevin gladly handed them over. “Oh, I love them,” Connor gushed, leaning in to give Kevin a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek and Kevin could only feel all the eyes on him, wishing they weren’t there, looking amused and happy and knowing far too much. “You really didn’t have to, though,” Connor said, “That wasn’t anything special.”

“No, it was great.” Kevin said, trying to appear casual. “You all sounded… great.”

“Very eloquent, Kevin,” said one of Connor’s friends who Kevin vaguely recognized but couldn’t remember the name of.

“You only think we sounded great because you couldn’t hear me,” Connor said, examining the flowers fondly as he spoke. “My voice was shaking so much I’m surprised the guy behind me didn’t hit me with his book.”

There was a rush of reassurances from his friends and he beamed as he rejected all of them, laughing and touching and looking the picture of the perfect social butterfly Kevin knew he was. And Kevin felt a little out of place. He wished they would all go away and leave him and Connor alone together, but he knew it wasn’t to be. They all seemed determined to get Connor out of the theatre and into a pub for a celebratory drink and he wasn’t exactly fighting it. And perhaps it was selfish to be jealous of this, after all these were his friends and this was his final performance of the year. Of his university career. Possibly ever.

But when the group started to move towards the door and Connor looked to Kevin and asked, “You coming, Kevin?” Kevin could only shake his head and kindly decline. He tried not to linger too much on the disappointment Connor was feeling, instead focusing on the smile on Connor’s face. “Okay, well I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later,” Kevin agreed.

As the group moved further away, Chris mingling with the people he had know for years, Kevin turned to Arnold who had declined as well the moment Kevin had. “You should go with them,” he said.

Arnold looked confused. “It’s cool, man. If you don’t want to go we don’t have to go.”

“No, I’m… I wanna take a bit of time for myself, I might go to the library,” Kevin told him. “You and Nabulungi go with them, you’re not obligated to say no just because I did.”

Arnold was conflicted, clearly ready to spend more time with Chris and whatever new friends he would be able to make at the pub, but also desperate to be near Kevin who wasn’t hiding his disappointment very well. But fortunately for both of them, Nabulungi wasn’t struggling so much. She put her arms around Arnold and smiled to Kevin and said, “Have fun at the library, Kevin.” Then she led Arnold out the door and after the group.

Kevin had to wonder how much Nabulungi really knew. How much could she pick up that she had the kindness not to openly acknowledge? Whatever the answer, it had been an act of kindness.

He didn’t go to the library. There were still exams left, but Kevin didn’t feel much like studying. Instead, he went down to the park.

It was getting warmer every day. That day in particular, the sun had made itself comfortable in the sky, brightly illuminating a fresh spring landscape and warming Kevin’s skin deliciously. On a weekend at this time of day the park was full of people, walking, running, riding bikes, doing nothing at all, and though Kevin would have liked to be more alone than that, he found he couldn’t be upset by the people, not on a day so lovely as this.

There were ducks in the pond, newly returned from the south, and Kevin sat himself down on a bench to watch them. It was nice, he thought, to have nothing at all to do.

But Kevin’s mind, after years of training and movement, had become unaccustomed to doing nothing. Though he sat mostly still, his thoughts were working relentlessly. He thought about Connor, he thought about Arnold, he thought about music and Uganda and belonging. And he didn’t notice time passing.

He was brought out of his thoughts by his stomach growling and realized that it was coming up on six and he hadn’t eaten since that morning. So he took himself over to the main street and into the first food place he could find. Waiting for his food to be made, he continued to think. He found it difficult not to think most days, but today especially he couldn’t find a moment of silence in his head.

“You’re that soulmate guy, right?” the cashier said, drawing him reluctantly out of his daze.

“Uh, yeah,” he said dumbly.

“Pretty weird,” she said. Then she looked back down at whatever it was she was doing and said nothing else. And Kevin thought about weirdness. He thought about being different. He thought about being the same and about the people around him who stared or muttered and about his friends who were also different, but not in the same way.

“Do you have any paper?” he asked.

The girl looked startled, but she said, “Um, yeah, I think so.”

He asked for some as well as a pencil and he received them just as his burrito arrived and he thanked both workers before heading back out to the park.

The best way to get a thought out of one’s head is to write it down. Seeing it written doesn’t necessarily make the thought go away, but it gives it somewhere else to exist for a while.

Kevin sat down on the same bench he had been on before and set down his burrito and took a moment to write.

‘No one is normal,’ he wrote. ‘I have never been normal. I do not know a single person who has ever been normal. But in all our abnormality we create something bigger than ourselves. We each sing with different voices and yet they come together as a single unified song. If we were all the same, there would be no harmony. If we were all normal, there would be no music.’

He wrote for ages. He wrote until his wrist was starting to ache and his penmanship was growing sloppy and the page was filled up as thickly as it could be. Words upon words pressed themselves at his hand, demanding to be written, and he wrote faster out of worry that the words, which were pushing and stumbling over one another, could be written before they were forgotten. It wasn’t entirely coherent, but it didn’t have to be.

“What are you writing?”

Kevin looked up. He hadn’t noticed it was getting dark now. He wasn’t cold, though there was a new chill in the air, but in the ebbing light he had needed to lean in close to his paper to see what he was doing. Now, his eyes took only a moment to adjust to the new distance and he could see Connor coming up the walkway towards him. He was still in all black and in his right hand was the bouquet.

“Shouldn’t you be at the pub?” Kevin asked.

“I was,” Connor said, sitting down next to him. “I was there for a few hours.” He gave Kevin a curious look. “Didn’t you realize it was getting late?”

“I guess not,” Kevin admitted. His thoughts were itching to be put down on the paper, but he would much rather be talking to Connor, even if it did mean he lost some of that flow. “I was thinking.”

“I can see that.” Connor’s eyes lingered on the paper before he asked again, “What are you writing?”

Kevin looked down at the sheet, trying to understand the purpose of the words he was putting down, but unable to find a real reason. “I think I’m writing a sermon,” he said at last, brow furrowed, and Connor nodded.

“I didn’t think you did that sort of thing.”

“I usually don’t.”

Connor held up the flowers and gave Kevin a small smile. “Thanks for the flowers.”

“Yeah.”

“Lilies.”

“Because of…”

“I know.”

Kevin smiled down at his hands, uncertain where to go from there, but contented just to be with Connor again. “I wasn’t sure if you would like them. I thought about getting roses or orchids, but…”

“Kevin, they’re perfect.” A hand appeared in Kevin’s vision as Connor gently lifted his tie, running his thumb over the raised flowers on it. “I can’t believe you wore the tie.”

Kevin looked up to find Connor suppressing a laugh and he could only smile back at him. “I thought it would be appropriate.”

“Appropriate for what?”

The words died in Kevin’s throat before he could say them, the sentiment too great for them to really express. “You look really good,” he said instead and Connor took the compliment with a flush of pride.

“Thank you. Black is easy to look good in.”

Kevin thought that Connor would look good in anything, but he kept that one to himself as well. Once again he hadn’t planned out what to say and once again he regretted it. Silences are always worst when you want to say something, but don’t know how. Kevin wanted to say a great deal, but the words wouldn’t come to him. So full to bursting just recently, his mind was now drawing a blank.

“What’s your sermon about?” Connor asked, releasing his tie.

“Music,” Kevin said. “About voices coming together to make something and blah blah, blah. A tired metaphor.”

“Nothing wrong with a metaphor.”

“I like to avoid clichés where I can.”

“I don’t think it’s a cliché.” Connor considered Kevin for a moment before patting his knee and standing up. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. It’s getting dark and I’d rather be moving. Bring your burrito.”

Kevin stood as well, folding up his sermon and putting it in his pocket before grabbing the untouched burrito and following after Connor as he set off down the path.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t really talk after the performance,” Connor said. The path lights were starting to come on and they passed from pool to pool as they walked. “I know you get kind of uncomfortable around people you don’t know, but I didn’t realize they were coming. I had forgotten I’d invited them.”

“You’re allowed to have other friends,” Kevin said. He was getting hungry again, but didn’t want to ruin any sort of mood by unwrapping his food.

“I know,” Connor said. “But it was the last show of the year and I really wanted to celebrate it with the people who mattered. And I’m not saying they don’t matter, but I mean the people who really matter, you know?”

“Sort of.”

“All my life I’ve felt really alone. My parents hated me for what I was so they made me into something else, so it wasn’t really me all my friends liked, not really. It was… some other person I was pretending to be. Then I left them all behind and found Chris and I thought everything might be okay and then… Well, nothing really changed. I was still who my parents made me, whether I liked it or not. I was still some strange and other person. I had friends, but I didn’t really feel like any of them knew who I was. There’s a cliché for you.”

Kevin laughed lightly and Connor picked through the bouquet, gently rubbing petals between his fingers and looking unusually somber.

“I’m sorry for what I did to you when we met,” Connor said and Kevin looked up at him in confusion. “You were just some guy, I never really intended for it to go any further than just that night. Even if you didn’t know it, it wasn’t fair to you. I wasn’t myself, but that’s no excuse. I could have tried.”

“We both made mistakes.”

“That’s all past, though, right? None of that really matters anymore. We’re not those people anymore. We’ve changed and we’ve… gone farther than that night and…” He shrugged and shook his head and an odd expression that involved an unfamiliar smile took hold and Kevin was suddenly very worried that Connor was about to cry. “Seeing you guys tonight, how happy you looked, knowing you were there just to see me.” He shook his head again as his face started to crumble. “I never thought I would have a real family.”

They stopped walking, trees on one side of them, the pond on the other, lights on either side, but standing in darkness as Connor breathed back tears and Kevin tried to comfort him wordlessly.

“I never thought any of this was really an option for me.”

He ran a hand across his eyes and sniffed and looked around at the darkened trees, anywhere but at Kevin. He laughed mirthlessly. “I love you,” he said quietly. “And I don’t mean I’m in love with you, I mean… you mean a lot to me and I’m so grateful you’re here.”

“I love you too,” Kevin said and he wasn’t sure he meant it in the same way that Connor did. He wasn’t sure that Connor meant it in the way he thought he did.

“That’s a really rare and stupid thing to do,” Connor said with a watery laugh and Kevin laughed too even though he didn’t quite understand.

They started walking again and Kevin put his arm around Connor’s shoulders as much for Connor as for himself. “You guys really did sound great tonight,” Kevin said gently. “Like, after the music they sang in my high school choir I was ready to be tearing my ears out, but you guys were like professionals.”

Connor laughed. “Thank you. Being better than your high school choir was exactly what we were going for.”

“Well, you really nailed it.”

They talked quietly as they walked, the sky growing darker as the air grew cooler, and by the time they reached a familiar bridge there were stars.

Connor leaned out over the water, looking down at his inky reflection, and Kevin watched him from the opposite wall. “Does this pond freeze in winter, do you think?” Connor asked.

“I guess it depends how cold it gets.”

Connor straightened up and peered into his bouquet once more before reaching in to pluck out a pale flower petal. He dropped it over the edge and watched it fall and moments later it emerged on Kevin’s side of the bridge, floating peacefully along. The petal was so pale and the water so dark it looked as though it were floating on nothing.

“How did you know I would be here?” Kevin asked, setting his burrito down on the stone wall next to him.

Connor shrugged as he plucked another petal and let it drop down like the other. “I didn’t. I hoped you would, but I honestly wasn’t sure. I went to the library first, that’s where Arnold said you would be, but you weren’t there so…”

Kevin pushed off his wall and went to join Connor in watching flower petals drift down into the water. He put his hand on Connor’s back and his heart was thumping and he could feel, distantly, Connor’s excitement. It wasn’t a wild and joyous excitement, but the quiet sort of excitement. Fast excitement rather than loud excitement.

“You’re not going to try to throw me in again, are you?” Connor asked wryly.

“I only did that because you pushed me first.”

“I never actually pushed you.”

“And I never actually threw you in.”

They stared at each other in a stalemate before a smile spread on Connor’s face and he turned it to the water again. “I guess I’m lucky you’re not as strong as you look.”

He was trying to goad Kevin into more playful arguing, but the mood wasn’t taking Kevin. He was too busy watching Connor, the way his eyes looked when he was looking down at the water, the way the moonlight reflected on his skin, the way his waistcoat hugged his frame. His back beneath his hand was solid and warm and Kevin wanted to get closer, but he wasn’t quite sure how.

“You keep picking the petals off those flowers there’ll be nothing left when you get home,” he said.

“My flowers, I can do what I want with them,” Connor muttered with a smile.

Kevin peered into the bouquet and carefully detached a lily from its stem.

“Oh, don’t do a whole one,” Connor moaned, “they won’t last as long.”

“I bought them, I can always get you more. Besides,” he said, holding the lily out, “it’s prettier this way.” He let the flower fall from his fingers and it landed more or less upright in the water. It drifted slowly beneath their feet and they both walked to the other side to watch it emerge, suddenly glowing as the moonlight caught it. They watched as it floated away from them, a luminescent white spot in the dark.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Connor said. “Not like they’re the only lilies in the world anyways.” He plucked another lily out of the bouquet and let it fall into the water, sending slight lit ripples around it that quickly dissipated into black. Then he plucked out another and held it out to Kevin.

Kevin considered it for a moment. A perfect pink lily missing only one petal, floating in the lake of Connor’s hand. It looked just like the one Connor had bought the first time they had met, but Connor himself looked entirely different. Kevin’s heart was ticking the moments away as he stared at Connor in silence, his pale features soft in the dim light, his eyes meeting Kevin’s steadily, and his amusement growing.

Finally, Connor smiled and said, “You’re thinking again-“

Kevin took the lily in his hand, letting it rest on Connor’s as he stepped forward and kissed him. It was nothing like their first kiss. The green light glowed behind his eyelids, but all of his focus was on the feeling of Connor’s mouth on his, of Connor’s neck under his hand, of the lily in his other. It was like time was standing still around them and Kevin wasn’t surprised to find that there wasn’t any fear in him. Any panic he might have felt was nonexistent and the only thing he could feel was warmth. And warmth wasn’t an emotion, but it might as well have been.

But when he felt Connor’s hand land on his waist, bouquet forgotten on the ground, it sent a spark up through the warmth, coating his skin in delicious static and making him press forward with more fervor. Connor met every movement eagerly, directing their hand to the stone wall where they place the lily down gently before each of their hands flew to each other. He didn’t protest as Kevin walked him back to the opposing wall, hands holding his face, his neck, the back of his head, never wanting to leave him.

When he hit the wall, Connor took a moment to heave himself up onto it before pulling Kevin in close to stand between his legs and kissing him hard. A hand took Kevin’s wrist and pulled it down to rest his fingers on Connor’s thigh and Kevin took the instruction with gusto, running his hand across his leg, over his waist, squeezing his hip, and his other arm wound around Connor’s back, trying to bring him in as close as physically possible. Every move sent a swirl of something unnamed through the green light in his head and it was addictive.

He had never realized how good it could feel to give in to an urge. If his hand wanted to be somewhere, it went unbidden. Every ounce of want he had felt over the past months, whether it had been his own or not, was rushing through him, pulling his body forward, pressing against Connor desperately. And through their bond he could feel only a reflection from Connor, that same want and desperation, so mild and distant before now surging and overwhelming. Loud excitement.

The force of Kevin against him was enough to make Connor lean back, the arm around his back the only thing keeping him on the bridge. Rough stone pressed against Kevin’s knees and the pressure of Connor’s thighs on either side of him were doing things to him. He wanted to get closer. He wanted to devour him.

His stomach growled.

Connor snickered. The growling continued and Kevin tried to ignore it, but when it cut off Connor was still snickering and Kevin had to pull back and look at him in disbelief as the snickering, released from the kiss, grew into giggling, and then full-on laughter.

“Really?” Kevin asked.

“Sorry,” Connor laughed, hands on Kevin’s chest. “Did you… did you want to eat your burrito? Did I interrupt you?”

Kevin couldn’t help but grin, but he stepped back a bit, hands falling to Connor’s knees and he rolled his eyes. “I’m a bit busy right now.”

“No, obviously,” Connor said, still giggling. His face was flushed, his lips dark, but the glint of his smile was bright enough to blind it all. “I just mean, like, if you wanted to pause and eat your burrito-“

“I’m not gonna eat my burrito.”

“No, right, it’s probably cold by now.” Connor seemed to find it endlessly funny and Kevin couldn’t possibly be mad about it, only smiled and tried to think of something clever to say.

“Here we are, having a lovely romantic time in the park, and you’d rather be laughing about my burrito,” he said.

“Yeah, romantic,” Connor said wryly. “We’re making out, there’s flowers, moonlight, we’ve both got hard-ons, and you’re thinking about your burrito. Every boy’s dream.”

“I was not thinking about my burrito,” Kevin laughed, though his stomach did feel conspicuously empty at the moment. He really should have eaten before he started writing his sermon.

“Don’t tell me,” Connor said, holding his hands up. “You were hungry for romance.”

“Connor…”

“Starved for intimacy.”

“If you keep going I actually will take my burrito and go. It’s smelling pretty delicious.”

“Oh, is that what that is?” Never one to not laugh at his own joke, Connor threw back his head to guffaw, but quickly his face turned to one of shock as his balance left him and then he vanished over the side of the bridge with a yelp and a flailing of the arms.

Kevin didn’t see him land, but he certainly heard the splash, and he would have gone to help him out, really, if he could only stop laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to be honest, I don't know if I'm going to continue this story. I'm not sure where it would go and I've never really been able to figure out an ending. It might get another chapter or two, but not for some time. I'm about to embark on my own story and I think it might be a lot of fun and a little terrifying, and maybe I'll write some more, but who knows. See you in the next chapter maybe?
> 
> -G


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